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THE LIFE 


OF 


REV. DAVID BRAINERD, 


: CHIEFLY EXTRACTED FROM HIS DIARY. 


BY PRESIDENT EDWARDS. 


SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED. 


EMBRACING, IN THE CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER, 


BRAINERD’S PUBLIC JOURNAL 


¢ 


OF THE MOST SUCCESSFUL YEAR OF HIS 


Missionary Labors. 


PUBLISHED BY THE 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
NO. 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. 


D. Fanshaw, Printer. 


It is a striking characteristic of the life of Brainern, trom 
the time of his entering on the study of Theology till his 
death, that he daily ‘‘ walked with God,” or mourned the — 
absence of the light of hiscountenance. President Edwards 
has endeavored to exhibit the state of his mind each day, as 
described in his diary. In this edition, many passages thns 
inserted by Edwards, especially such as much resembled 
those preceding or following, have been omitted. 


Div.S 


a ll vy 


ase 


Bay cay 


CONTENTS. 


—~ 


Page. 


President Edwards’ Preface - : - - - + 


Cuap. I.—From his birth to the time when he began to 
study for the ministry—containing his own narrative 
of his conversion, his connection with Yale College 
and the grounds of his expulsion - - 

Cuar. If.—From about the time when he began the 
study of theology, till he was licensed to preach - 

Cuap. I[l.—From his being licensed to preach, till he 
Was commissioned as amissionarv- - -  - 

Cuar. 1V.—From his appointment as a missionary, to 
his commencing his mission among the Indians at 
Kaunaumeek, in New-York - - = - - 

Cuar. V.—His labors for nearly a year at Kaunaumeek 
—temporal deprivations and sufferings—establishes 
a school—confession offered to the Faculty of Yale 


College—days of fasting—methods of instructing. 


the Indians—visit to New-Jersey and Connecticut 
—commencement of labor among the Indians at the 
Forks of Delaware—ordimation - - -— - 
Cuar. VI.—Labors for the Indians at and near the Forks 
of Delaware—idolatrous feast and dance—journey 
through the wilderness to Opeholhaupung, on the 
Susquehanna—erects a cottage at the Forks of De- 
laware—some evidences of a work of the Spirit 
among the Indians—journey to New-England, to 
obtain funds to support a colleague—visit to the In- 
dians on the 2a cai ating gininka to Crossweek- 
sung, in New-Jersey - : - 
Cuar. VII.—Being Part I. of his nab Seainal of “the 
Rise and Progress of a remarkable Work of Grace 
among the Indians in New-Jersey and Penwsylva- 


t ~ = 
BIGGS S 3s 


5 


45 


52 


61 


CONTENTS. 


Page 


nia; kept by order of the Society in Scotland for 
propagating Christian Knowledge ”—commence- 
ment of his labors at Crossweeksung—renewal of 
labor at the Forks of Delaware—conversion of his 
interpreter—return to Crossweeksung—outpouring 
of the Spirit—visit to the Forks of Delaware and 
the Susquehanna—a powaw—a conjurer—renewal 
of labor at Crossweeksung—remarks on the work 
of-divine grace () | “= Fees eee eee 
Cuar. VIII.—Being Part IL. of his public Journal of 
“the Continuance and Progress of a Remarkable 
Work of Grace among the Indians in New-Jersey 
and Pennsylvania: kept by order of the Society in 
Scotland for propagating Christian Knowledge "— 
renewal of labor at Crossweeksung—outpouring of 
the Spirit—remarkable case—signal displays of di- 
vine power—a convert—a number of Christian In- 
dians accompany him to the Forks of Delaware— 
striking conversion at Crossweeksung—day of fast- 
ing—Lord’s supper—conversion of a conjurer— 
general remarks on the preceding narrative - - 


Cuap. 1X.—From the close of his public Journal, June 


19, 1746, to his death, October 9, 1747—continu- 
ance of labor at Crossweeksung and Cranberry— 
journey with six Christian Indians to the Susque- 
hanna, and labors there—return to Crossweeksung 
—compelled by prostration of health to leave the 
{ndians—confinement by sickness at Elizabethtown 
—farewell visit to the Indians—his brother John 
succeeds him as a missionary—arrival among his 
friends in Connecticut—visit to President Edwards, 
in Northampton—journey to Boston, where he is 
brought near to death—usefulness in Boston—re- 
turn to Northampton—triumphs of grace in his last 


132 


194 


sickness—death - - - - - - - 278 


Cuar. X.—Reflections on the preceding memoir- —- 


345 


FROM 


PRESIDENT EDWARDS’ PREFACE. | 


Tuer: is one thing, easily discernible in the life of Braiy- 
ERD, Which by many may be considered an objection to tke 
extraordinary evidences of his religion and devotion, viz. 
that he was, by his constitulion and natural temper, so prone to 
melancholy and dejection of Spirit. 'There are some who think 
that all religion is a melancholy thing; and that what is 
called Christian experience is little else beside melancholy, 
disturbing the brain, and exciting enthusiastic imaginations. 
But that Brainerd’s temper or constitution inclined him to 
despondency, is no just ground for supposing that his extra- 
ordinary devotion was only the fruit of a warm imagination. 
Notwithstanding this inclination to despondency, he was evi- 
dently one of those who usually are the farthest from a teem- 
ing imagination; being of a penetrating genius, of clear 
thought, of close reasoning, and a very exact judgment; as 
was apparent to all who knew him. As he had a great in- 
sight into human nature, and was very discerning and judi-° 
cious in general; so he excelled in his judgment and know- 
ledge in divinity, but especially in experimental religion. 
He most accurately distinguished between real, solid piety. 
and enthusiasm; between those affections that are_rational 
and scriptural, having their foundation in light and judgment, — 
and those that are founded in whimsical conceits, strong im- 
pressions on the imagination, and vehement emotions of the 
animal spirits. He was exceedingly sensible of men’s expo- 
sure to these things; how extensively they had prevailed, 
and what multitudes had been deceived by them; of their 
pernicious consequences, and the fearful mischief they had 

Ay "Salt 8 aah =a 
2 


y= 2 
Erisetal 


7 


6 at PREFACE. 


done in the Christian world. He had no confidence in such 
a religion, and was abundant in bearing testimony against it, 
living and dying; and was quick to discern when any thing 
of that nature arose, though in its first buddings, and appear- 
ing under the most fair and plausible disguises. He had a 
talent, which I scarcely ever knew equalled, for describing 
the various workings of this imaginary enthusiastic religion, 


evincing its falseness and vanity, and demonstrating the great 


difference between this and true spiritual devotion. 

His judiciousness did not only appear in distinguishing 
among the experiences of others, but also among the various 
exercises of his own mind; particularly in discerning what 
within himself was to be laid to the score of melancholy ; in 
which he exceeded all melancholy persons that ever I was 
acquainted with. This was doubtless owing to a peculiar 
strength in his judgment ; for it is a rare thing indeed, that 
persons under the influence of melancholy are sensible of 
their own disease, and convinced that such things are to be 
ascribed to it, as are its genuine operations and fruits. Brain- 
erd did not obtain that degree of skill at once, but gradually ; 
as the reader may discern by the following account of his life. 
In the former part of his religious course, he imputed much 
of that kind of gloominess of mind to spiritual desertion, which 
in the latter part of his life he was abundantly sensible was 
owing to the disease of melancholy ; accordingly he often ex- 
pressly speaks of it in his diary, as arising from this cause. He 
often in conversation spoke of the difference between melan- 
choly and godly sorrow; between true humiliation and spiri- 
tual desertion ; and the great danger of mistaking the one for 
the other, and the very hurtful nature of melancholy; dis- 
coursing with great judgment upon it, and doubiless much 
more judiciously for what he knew by his own experience, 


# 


_ PREFACE. ' 7 


Another imperfection in Brainerd, which may be observed 
in the following account of his life, was his being excessive in 
his labors ; not taking due care to proportion his fatigues to 
his strength. Indeed, the seeming calls of Providence were 
very often such as made it extremely difficult for him to avoid 
laboring beyond his strength ; yea, his circumstances, and the 
business of his mission among the Indians, were such, that 
great fatigues and hardships were altogether inevitable. 
However, he was finally convinced that he had erred in this 
matter, and that he ought to have taken more thorough care, 
and been more resolute to withstand temptations to such 
degrees of labor as injured his health; and accordingly he 
warned his brother, who succeeded him in his mission, to be 
careful to avoid this error. 

Besides the imperfections already mentioned, it is readily 
allowed that there were some imperfections which ran 
through his whole life, and were mixed with all his religious 
affections and exercises; some mixture of what was natural, 
with that which. was spiritual; as it evermore is in the best 

_saints in this world. Doubtless, natural temper had some 
influence in the religious exercises of Brainerd, as it most ap- 
parently had in those of the devout David, and the Apostles 
Peter, John, and Paul. There was undoubtedly very often 
some mixture of melancholy with true godly sorrow and 
real Christian humility; some mixture of the natural fire of 
- youth, with his holy zeal for God; and some influence of na- 
tural principles, mixed with grace in various other respects, 
as it ever was and ever will be with the saints, while on this 
side heaven. Perhaps none were more sensible of Brainerd’s 
imperfections than himself; or could distinguish more accu- 
rately than he, between what was natural and what was spiri- 
tual. It is easy for the judicious reader to observe that his 


8 PREPACE. so 


graces ripened, that the religious exercises of his heart be 
came more and more pure, and he more and more distin 
guishing in his judgment, the longer he lived. He had much 
to teach and purify him, and he failed not to profit thereby. 

Notwithstanding all these imperfections, every pious ana 
judicious reader will readily acknowledge that what is here 
set before him is a remarkable instance of true and eminent 
piety, in heart and practice—tending greatly to confirm the 
reality of vital religion, and the power of godliness ; that it is 
most worthy of imitation, and in many ways calculated to 
promote the spiritual benefit of the careful observer. 

The reader should be aware that what Brainerd wrote in 
his diary, out of which the following account of his life is 
chiefly taken, was written only for his own private use; and 
not to obtain honor and applause in the world, nor with any 
design that the world should ever see it, either while he lived, 
’ or after his death ; except a few things which he wrote in a 
dying state, after he had been persuaded, with difficulty, not 
entirely to suppress all his private writings. He showed him- 
self almost invincibly averse to the publishing of any part of 
his ciary after his death ; and when he was thought to be dy- 
ing at Boston, gave the most strict, peremptory orders to the 
contrary. But being by some of his friends there, prevailed 
upon to withdraw so strict and absolute a prohibition, he was 
finally pleased to yield so far, as that “his papers should be 
left in my hands, that I might dispose of them as I thought 
would be most for God’s glory and the interest of religion.”* 


JONATHAN EDWARDS. © 


‘ 


LIFH 


OF 


REV. DAVID BRAINERD. 


CHAPTER I. 


From his birth to the time when he began to study for the 
Ministry—containing his own narrative of his conversion, 
his connection with Yale-College, and the grounds of his 
expulsion. 

April 20, 1718-—-Feb. 1741. 


Davin Brainerd was born April 20, 1718, at Had- 
dam, Connecticut. His father was Hezekiah Brainerd, 
Esq. and his mother, Dorothy Hobart, daughter of the 
Rev. Jeremiah Hobart. 

He was the third son of his parents, who had five 
sons and four daughters. The oldest son was a respecta- 
ble citizen of Haddam; the second was Rey. Nehemiah 
Brainerd, a worthy minister in Eastbury, in Connécti- 
cut; the fourth, Mr. John Brainerd, who succeeded his 


brother David as missionary to the Indians, and pastor 


of the same church of Christian Indians in New-Jer- 
sey; and the fifth was Israel, lately student at Yale- 
College, who died soon after rs brother David. ee 
mother, having lived about five years a widow, died 
when the subject of this memoir was about folr bale 


* 


10 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. L. 


years of age; so that in his youth he was left both 
fatherless and motherless. The following is the ac- 
count he has himself given of the first twenty-three 
years of his life. , 
“Twas from my youth somewhat sober, and inclined 
to melancholy ; but do not remember any thing of con- 
viction of sin, worthy of remark, till I was, I believe, 
about seven or eight years of age. Then I became 
concerned for my soul, and terrified at the thoughts of 
death ; and was driven to the performance of religious 
duties: but it appeared a melancholy business that de- 
stroyed my eagerness for play. And though, alas! this 
religious concern was but short-lived, I sometimes at- 
tended secret prayer; and thus lived “without God in 
the world,” and without much concern, as I remember, 
till I was above thirteen years of age. In the winter 
of 1732 I was roused out of this carnal security by, I 
scarce know what means at first; but was much ex- 
cited by the prevalence of a mortal sickness in Had- 
dam. I was frequent, constant, and somewhat fervent 
in prayer; and took delight in reading, especially Mr. 
Janeway’s Token for Children. I felt sometimes much 
melted in the duties of religion, took great delight in 
the performance of them, and sometimes hoped that I 
Was converted, or at least in a good and hopefu! way 
for heaven and happiness; not knowing what conver- 
sion was. ‘The Spirit of God at this time proceeded 
far with me. J was remarkably dead to the world; my 
thoughts were almost wholly employed about my soul’s 
concerns; and I may indeed say, “ Almost I was per- 
suaded to be a Christian.” I was also exceedingly dis- 
sed and melancholy at the death of my mother, in 
, 1732. But afterward my religious concern 
1 to decline, and by degrees I fell back into a con- 


1738. ] HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 1] 


siderable degree of security, though I still attended 
secret prayer. 

“About the 15th of April, 1733, I removed from my 
father’s house to East-Haddam, where I spent four 
years; but still “without God in the world,” though, 
for the most part, I went a round of secret duty. I 
was not much addicted to the company and the amuse- 
ments of the young ; but this I know, that when I did 
go into such company I never returned with so good 
a conscience as when I went, It always added new 
guilt, made me afraid to come to the throne of grace, 
and spoiled those good frames with which I was wont 
sometimes to please myself. But, alas! all my good 
frames were but self-righteousness, not founded ona 
desire for the glory of God. : 

“About the end of April, 1737, being full nine- 
teen years of age, I removed to Durham, to work on 
sy farm, and continued about one year; frequently 
jonging after a liberal education. When about twenty 
years of age I applied myself to study; and was now 
engaged more than ever in the duties of religion. I 
became very strict, and watchful over my thoughts, 
words, and actions; concluded that I must be sober 
indeed, because I designed to devote myself to the 
ministry ; and imagined that I did dedicate myself to 
the Lord. 

“Sometime in April, 1738, I went to live with Rev. 
Mr. Fiske, of Haddam, and continued with him during 
his life. [remember he advised me wholly to abandon 
young company, and associate myself with grave el- 
derly people; which counsel I followed. My manner 
of life was now wholly regular, and full of religion, 
such as it was; for I read my bible more than twice 
through in less than a year, spent much time every day 


2 UPE OF BRAINERR [Ceap. L 


ia prayer and other secret duties, gave great attention 
\o the ward preached, and endeavored to my utmest to 
Tetaia Rk. So much cancerned was I about religion, 
that I agered with some young persons to meet pri- 
vateiy on Sehhath evenings for religious exercises, and 
thought myse sincere in these duties; and after our 
meeting was ended I used to repeat the discourses 
of the day to myself; recollecting what Pevold, though... 
sometimes very late at night. [I used occasionally oa 
Monday mornings to recollect the same sermons; had 
sometimes pleasure in religious exercises, and had 
many thoughts of joining the church. In short, I had 
a very Sood oufsede, and rested entirely on my duties, 
thouzh I was not sensible of it. 

* After Mr. Fiske’s death I proceeded im my stadies 
with my brother; was still very constant im religious 
duties often wondered at the levity of professors, and 
lamented their carelessness in religien.—Thus I pre- 
ceeded a considerable length on a seifrizhizeus foun- 
Gatien ; and shoul have been entirely lost and undone, 
hed not the mere mercy of God prevented. 

“Semetime mm the besimning of winter, 1733, it 
pleased God, one Sabbath morning, as 1] was walking — 
eat for secret duties, to sive me ona sudden sucha 
sense of my danger, and the wrath of Ged, that I stood 
amazed, 22d my former sood frames presently ven- 
ished. From the view which I had of my sim and vile- 
mess, I was much distressed all that day, fearing that 
the venseance of God would soon overtake me. Iwas 
maech dejected; kept moch alone; and sometimes en- 
wied the bards and beasts their happiness, because they 
Were not exposed to eternal misery, as I evidently =w 
that I wes. Thus I lived irom éey today, bee fre- 
quently im creat distress: sometimes there eppeared 


1739.)/ -wIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 13 


mountains before me to obstruct my hopes of mercy; 
and the work of conversion appeared so great, that ] 
_ thought I should never be the subject of it. I used, 
| however, to pray and cry to God, and perform other 
: duties with great earnestness; and thus hoped by some 
means to make the case better. 

“Hundreds of times I renounced all pretences of 
_sny worth in my duties, as I thought, even while per- 
‘forming them; and often confessed to God that I de- 
served nothing forthe very best of them, but eternal 
condemnation ; yet still I had a seeret hope of recom- 
mending myself to God by my religious duties. When 
I prayed affectionately, and my heart seemed in some 
measure to melt, I hoped that God would be thereby 
moved to pity me. There was, then, some appearance 
of goodness in my prayers, and I seemed to mourn for 
sin. I could in some measure venture on the mercy of 
God in Christ, as I thought; though the preponderat- 
mg thought, the foundation of my hope was some 
imagination of goodness in my meltings of heart, the 
warmth of my affections, and my extraordinary en- 
largements in prayer. Though at times the gate ap- 
peared so very strait that it looked next to impossible 
to enter; yet, at other times I flattered myself that it 
was not so very difficult, and hoped I should by dili- 
gence and watchfulness soon gain the point. Some- 
times after enlargement in duty and considerable affec- 
| tion, I hoped I had made a zood step toward heaven, 
and imagined that God was affected as I was, and 
would hear such sincere cries, as 1 called them. And 
| 80 sometimes, when I withdrew for secret prayer im 
great distress, I returned comfortable ; and thus healed 

myself with my duties. ; 
“In February, 1739, I set apart a day for secret fast- 

2 


Brainerd. 


gee 
& 


» 7 
_ 
14 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. I. 


ing and prayer, and spent the day in almost incessant 
cries to God for mercy, that he would open my eyes to 
see the evil of sin, and the way of life by Jesus Christ. 
God was pleased that day to make considerable dis- 
coveries of my heart to me. Still I ér-wsted in all the 
duties I performed, though there was no manner of 
goodness in them; there being in them no respect to 
the glory of God, nor any such principle in my heart. 
Yet God was pleased to make my endeavors, that day, 
a means to show me my helplessness in some measure. 
“Sometimes I was greatly encouraged, and imagined 
that God loved me and was pleased with me, and thought 
Tshould soon be fully reconciled to God. Butthe whole 
was founded on mere presumption, arising from en- 
largement in duty, or warmth of affections, or some good 
resolutions, or the like. And when, at times, great dis- 
tress began to arise on a sight of my vileness and ina- 
bility to deliver myself from a sovereign God, I used 
to put off the discovery, as what I could not bear. 
Once, I remember, a terrible pang of distress seized 
me; and the thought of renouneing myself, and stand- 
ing naked before God, stripped of all goodness, was so 
dreadful to me that I was ready to say to it, as Felix to 
Paul, “ Go thy way for this time.” Thus, though I daily 
longed for greater conviction of sin; supposing that I 
must see more of my dreadful state in order to a reme- 
dy ; yet, when the discoveries of my vile, wicked heart. 
were made tome, the sight was so dreadful, and showed . 
me so plainly my exposedness to damnation, that I 
could not endure it. I constantly strove after whatever 
qualifications I imagined others obtained before the re- 
ception of Christ, in order to recommend me to his 
favor. Sometimes I felt the power of a hard heart, 
and supposed it must be softened before Christ would 


Ra; 


1739.] HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 15 


accept of me; and when I felt any meltings of heart, 
I hoped now the work was almost done. Hence, when 
my distress still remained I was wont to murmur at 


’ God’s dealings with me; and thought, when others felt 


their hearts softened, God showed them mercy; but 
ny distress remained still. 
“ At times I grew remiss and sluggish, without any 


_ great convictions of sin, for a considerable time to- 


gether; but after such a season convictions sometimes 
seized me more violently. One night J remember in 
particular, when I was walking solitarily abroad, I had 
opened to me such a view of my sin that I feared the 
ground would cleave asunder under my feet, and be- 
come my grave; and send my soul quick into hell, be- 
fore I could get home. Though I was forced to goto 
bed, lest my distress should be discovered by others, 
which I much feared; yet I scarcely durst sleep at all, 
for I thought it would be a great wonder if I should be 
out of hell in the morning. And though my distress 
was sometimes thus great, yet I greatly dreaded the 
loss of convictions, and returning back to a state of car- 
nal security, and to my former insensibility of impend- 


ing wrath; which made me exceedingly exact in my 


behaviour, lest I should stifle the motions of God’s 
Holy Spirit. When at any time I took a view of my 
convictions, and thought the degree of them to be con- 
siderable, I was wont to trust in them; but this confi- 
dence, and the hope of soon making some notable ad- 
vances toward deliverance, would ease my mind, and I 
soon became more senseless and remiss. Again, when 
I discerned my convictions to grow languid, and 
thought them about to leave me, this immediately 
alarmed and distressed me. Sometimes I expected to 
take a large step, and get very far toward conversion, 


‘ 


16 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. E. 


by some particular opportunity or means I had in view. 
“The many disappointments, the great distress and 
perplexity which I experienced, put me into a most 
horrible frame of contesting with the almighty; with 
inward vehemence and virulence finding fault with his 
ways of dealing with mankind. My wicked ‘heart 
often wished for some other way of salvation than by 
Jesus Christ. Being like the troubled sea, my thoughis 
confused, I used to contrive to escape the wrath of 
God by some other means. I had strange projects, 
full of Atheism, contriving to disappoint God’s de- 
signs and decrees concerning me, or to escape his no- 
tice and hide myself from him. But when upon re- 
flection I saw these projects were vain, and would not 
serve me,and that I could contrive nothing for my 
own relief, this would throw my mind into the most 
horrid frame, to wish there was no God, or to wish 
there was some other God that could control him. 
These thoughts and desires were the secret inclina- 
tions of my heart, frequently acting before I was 
aware; but, alas! they were mine, although I was 
frightened when I came to reflect on them. When I 
considered, it distressed me to think that my heart 
was so full of enmity against God; and it made me 
F tremble, lest his vengeance should suddenly fall upon 
me. I used before to imagine that my heart was not 
so bad as the Scriptures and soine other books repre- 
sented it. Sometimes I used to take much pains to 
work it up into a good frame, a humble submissive dis- 
position ; and hoped there was then some goodness in 
me. But, ona sudden, the thoughts of the strictness 
of the law, or the sovereignty of God, would so irri- 
tate the corruption of my heart that I had so watched 
over and hoped I had brought toa gond frame, that. it 


1739.] HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 17 


would break over all bounds, and burst forth on all 
sides, like floods of waters when they break down 
their dam. 

“ Being sensible of the necessity of deep humiliation 
in order toa saving close with Christ, I usedto set my- 
self to produce in my own heart the convictions requi- 
site in such a humiliation: as, a conviction that God 
would be just, if he cast me off for ever; that if ever 
God should bestow mercy on me, it would be mere 
grace, though I should be in distress many years first, 
and be never so much engaged in duty; and that God 
was notin the least obliged to pity me the more for all 
past duties, cries, and tears. I strove to my utmost to 
bring myself to a firm belief of these things and a 
hearty assent to them; and hoped that now I was 
brought off from myself, truky humbled, and that I 
bowed to the divine sovereignty. I was wont to tell God 
in my prayers, that now I had those very dispositions 
of soul which he required, and on which he showed 
mercy to others, and thereupon to beg and plead for 
merey to me. But when I found no relief, and was 
still oppressed with guilt and fears of wrath, my soul 
was in a tumult, and my heart rose against God, as deal- 
ing hardly with me. Yet then my conscience flew in 
my face, putting me in mind of my late confession to 
God of his justice in my condemnation. This, giving 
me a sight of the badness of my heart, threw me again 
into distress; and I wished that I had watched my 
heart more narrowly, to keep it from breaking out 
against God’s dealings with me. I even wished that 
I had not pleaded for mercy on account of my humi- 
liation ; because thereby I had lost all my seeming 
goodness. Thus, scores of times I vainly imagined 
myself hnmbled and prepared for saving mercy. While 

2 


18 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 3 


I was in this distressed, bewildered, and tumultuous 
state of mind, the corruption of my heart was especial- 
ly irritated with the following things. 


1. “ The strictness of the divine law. ForI found 
1t was impossible for me, after my utmost pains, to an- 
swer its demands. I often made new resolutions, and 
as often broke them. I imputed the whole to careless- 
ness, and the want of being more watchful, and used 
to-call myself a fool for my negligence. But when, 
upon.a stronger resolution, and greater endeavors, and 
close application'to fasting and prayer, I found all at- 
tempts fail; then I quarrelled with the law of God, as 
unreasonably rigid. I thought, if it extended only to 
my outward actions and behavior, that I could bear 
with it; but I found that it condemned me for my evil 
thoughts, and sins of my heart, which I could not pos- 
sibly prevent. I was extremely loth to own my utter 
helplessness in this matter: but after repeated disap- 
pointments, thought that rather than perish I could do 
a little more still; especially if such and such circum- 
stances might but attend my endeavors and strivings. 
I hoped that I should strive more earnestly than ever, 
if the matter came to extremity, though I never could 
find the time to do my utmost in the manner I intend- 
ed. This hope of future more favorable circumstances, 
and of doing something great hereafter, kept me from 
utter despair in myself, and from seeing myself fallen 
into the hands of a sovereign God, and dependent on 
nothing but free and boundless grace. 

2.“ Another point that irritated me was, that faith 
alone was the condition of salvation; that God would 
not come down to lower terms; and that he would not 
promise life and salvation upon my sincere and hearty 


1739.] —«HIS: CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. I9 


-prayersandendeavors. That word, Mark 16:16, “He 


that believeth not shall be damned,” cut off all hope 
there. I found that faith was the sovereign gift of God; 
that I could not get it as of myself; and could not oblige 
God to bestow it upon me by any of my performances 
Eph. 2: 1,8. “ This,” I was ready to say, “is a 
hard saying, who can hear it?” I could not bear that 
all I had done should ‘stand for mere nothing; as 
I had been very conscientious in duty, had been very 
religious a great while, and had, as I thought, done 
much more than many others who had obtained mer- 
ey. Iconfessed indeed the vileness of my duties; but 
then what made them at that time seem vile, was my 
wandering thoughts in them, rather than because I was 
all over defiled like a devil, and the principle corrupt 
from whence they flowed, so that I could not possibly 
do any thing that was good. Hence I called what I did 
by thename of honest faithful endearor's ; and could not 
bear it, that God had made no promises of salvation 


|. to them. 


3.“I could not find out what faith was; or what it 
was tu believe and come to Christ. I read the calls of 
Christ to the weary and heavy laden; but could find no 
way in which he directed them to come. I thought I 
would gladly come, if I knew how; though the path 
of duty were never so difficult. I read Stoddard’s 
Guide to Christ, (which I trust was, in the hand of God, 
the happy means of my conversion, ) and my heart rose 
against the author; for though he told me my very 
heart all along under convictions, and seemed td be 
very beneficial to mein his directions; yet here he 
seemed to me to fail: he did not tell me any thing I 
could do that would bring me to Christ, but left me as 


| it were with a great gulph between me and Christ, with- 


ou: any direction how to get through. For I was not 


20 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. }. 
yet effectually and experimentally taught, chat there 
could be no way prescribed, whereby a natural mau 
could, of his own strength, obtain that which is super- 
natural, and which the highest angel cannot give. 

4. “ Another point was the sovereignty of God. I 
could not bear that it should be wholly at God’s plea- 
Sure, to save or damn me, justas he would. That pas- 
sage, Rom. 9 : 11-23, was a constant vexation to me, 
especially verse 21. Reading or meditating on this, al- 
ways destroyed my seeming good frames; for when I 
thought I was almost humbled, and almost resigned, 
this passage would make my enmity against God ap- 
pear. When I came to reflect on the inward enmity 
and blasphemy which arose on this occusion, I was 
the more afraid of God, and driven further from any 
hopes of reconciliation with him. Itgave mea dread: 
ful view of myself; I dreaded more than ever to see 
myself in God’s hands, and it made me more opposite 
than ever to submit to his sovereignty; for I thought 
He designed my damnation. 


~All this time the Spirt of God was powerfully at 
work with me; and I was inwardly pressed to relin- 
quish all selj-confidence, all hope of ever helping my- 
self by any means whatsoever. The conviction of my 
losi estate was sometimes so clear and manifest before 
my eyes that it was as if it had beendeclared to me in 
so many words, “It is done, it is done, it is for ever 
impossible to deliver yourself.” For about three or 
four days my soul was thus greatly distressed. At 
some turns, fora few moments, I seemed to myself 
lostiand undone; but then would shrink back imme- 
diately from the sight, because I dared notventuremy- - 
self into the hands of God, as wholly helpless, and at 


1739.] «BIS COVICTION AND CONVERSION. 21 


the dispasal of his sovereign pleasure. I dared not 
see that important truth concerning myself, that I was 
“dead in trespasses and sins.’ But when I had, as it 
were, thrust away these views of myself at any time, 
1 felt distressed to have the same discoveries of myself 
again; fur I greatly feared being given over of Gad to 
final stupidity. When I thought of putting it off toa 
more “convenient season,” the conviction was so close 
and powerful, that the present time was the best, and 
probably the only time, that I dared not put it off. 

“Tt was the sight of truth concerning myself, truth 
respecting my state, as a creature fallen and alienated 
from God, and that consequently could make no de- 
mands on God for mercy, but was at his absolute dis- 

osal, from which my soul shrank away, and which I 
trembled to think of beholding. Thus, he thac doeth 
evil, as all unregenerate men continually do, hates the 
light of truth, neither cares to come to 4t, heen it 
will reprove his deeds, and show him his just deserts. 
John, 3: 20. Sometime before, I had taken much 
pains, as I thought, to submit to the sovereignty of 
God ; yet I mistook the thing, and did not once ima- 
gine, that seeing and being made experimentally sen- 
sible of this truth, which my soul now so much dreaded 
and trembled at, was the frame of soul which I had so 
earnestly desired. I had ever hoped that when I had 
attained to that Aumiliation which I supposed neces- 
sary to precede faith, then it would not be fair for God 
_ to cast me off ; but now I saw it was so far from any 
goodness in me, to own myself spiritually dead and 
' destitute of ali goodness, that on the contrary, my 
mouth world be for ever stopped by it ; and it looked 
_ as dreadful to me, to see myself, and the relation I 
stood in to God—I a sinner and criminal, and hea 


22 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ° [ Chap. f, 


great Judge and Sovereign—as it would be to a poor 
trembling creature to venture off some high precipice. 
Hence I put it off for a minute or two, and tried for 
better circtimstances to do it in: either I must read a 
passage or two, or pray first, or something of the like 
nature ; or else put off my submission to God with an 
objection, that I did not know how to submit. But the 
truth was, I could see no safety in owning myself in 
the hands of a sovereign God, and could lay no claim 
to any thing better than damnation. , 
“ After a considerable time spent in similar exercises 
and distress, one morning, while I was walking ipa 
solitary place, as usual, I at once saw that all my con- 
trivances and projects to effect or procure deliverance 
and salvation for myself were utterly in vain; I was 
brought quite to a stand, as finding myself totally lost. 
Ihad thought many times before, that the difficulties 
in my way were very great ; but now I saw, in another 
and very different light, that it was for ever impossible 
for me to do any thing toward helping or delivering 
myself. I then thought of blaming myseif, that I had 
not done more, and been more engaged, while I had 
opportunity=for it seemed now as if the season of 
doing was for ever over and gone—but I instantly saw, 
that let me have done what I would, it would no more 
have tended to my helping myself, than what I had 
done; that F had made all the pleas I ever could have 
made to all eternity; and that all my pleas werevvain. 
‘The tumult that had been before in my mind was now 
quieted; and I was somewhat eased of that distress 
which I felt while struggling against a sight of myself, 
and of the divine sovereignty. I had the greatest cer- 
tainty that my state was for ever miserable, for all that 
T could do; and wondered that I had never been sen’ 
sible of it before. m 


| 


1739.) HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 23 


“While I remained in this state my notions respect- 
ing my duties were quite different from what I had 
ever entertained in times past. Before this, the more 
I did in duty, the more hard I thought it would be for 
God to cast me off; though at the same time I con- 
fessed, and thought I saw, that there was no goodness 
or merit in my duties; but now, the more I did in 
prayer or any other duty, the more I saw that I was 
indebted to God for allowing me to ask for mercy ; for 
I saw that self interest had led me to pray, and that I 
had never once prayed from any respect to the glory 
ofsGod. Now I saw that there was no necessary con- 
nection between my prayers and the bestowment of 
divine mercy; that they laid not the least obligation upon 
God to bestow his grace upon me; and that there was no 
more virtue or goodness in them than there would be 
in my paddling with my hand in the water, (which was 
the comparison J had then in my mind;) and this be- 
cause they were not performed from any love or re- 
gard to God. Isaw that I-had been heaping up my 
devotions before God, fasting, praying, &c. pretend- 
ing, and indeed really thinking sometimes, that I was 
aiming at the glory of God; whereas I never once 
truly intended it, but only my own happiness. I saw 
that as [had never done any thing for God, I had. no 
claim on any thing from him, but perdition, on ac- 
count of my hypocrisy and mockery. Oh, how dif- 
ferent did my duties now appear from what they used 


| todo! I used to charge them with sin and imperfec- 


| 
| 


tion ; but this was only on account of the wandering 
and vain thoughts attending them, and not because I 


had no regard to God in them ; for this [thought Lhad. - . 


But when I saw evidently that I had had regard to 
nothing but self-interest; then they appeared a vile 


24 LIFE OF BRAINERD, [Chap, I. 


mockery of God, self-worship, and a continued course 
of lies. I saw that something worse had attended my 
duties than barely a few wanderings; for the whole 
was nothing but self-worship, and an horrid abuse 
of God. 1 

-“T continued, as I remember, in this state of mind 
from Friday morning till the Sabbath evening follow- 
ing, (July 12, 1739,) when I was walking again in the 
same solitary place where I was brought to see myself 
lost and helpless, as before mentioned. Here, in a 
mournful melancholy state, I was. attempting to pray ; 
but found no heart to engage in prayer or apy 
other duty. My former concern, exercise, and_re- 
ligious affections were now gone. I thought that the 
Spirit of God had quite left me ; but still was not dis- 
tressed ; yet disconsolate, as if there was nothing in 
heaven or earth could make me happy. Having been 
thus endeavoring to pray—though, as I thought, very 
stupid and senseless—for near half an hour; then, as I 
was walking in a dark thick grove, unspeakable glory 
seemed to open to the view and apprehension of my 
soul. I do not mean any exiernal brightness, for I 
saw no such thing; nor do I intend any imagination of 
a body of light, somewhere in the third heavens, or 
any thing of that nature; but it was a new inward ap- 
prehension or view that I had of God, such as I never 
had before, nor any thing which had the least resem- 
blance of it. I stood still, wondered, and admired! ] 
knew that I never had seen before any thing compara- 
ble to it for excellency and beauty; it was widely dif- 
ferent from all the conceptions that ever I had of God, 
‘ or things divine. Ihad no particular apprehension of 
any one person in the Trinity, either the Father, the 
Son, or the Holy Ghost; but it appeared to be Divine 


4739. | HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 25 


story that I then beheld. My soul rejoiced with joy 
unspeakable, to see such a God, such a glorious divine 
Being; and I was inwardly pleased and Satisfied, 
that he should be God over all for ever and ever. My 
soul Was so captivated and delighted with the excel- 
lency, ioveliness, greatness, and other perfections of 
God, that I was even swallowed up in him; at least to 
that degree that I had no thought, as I remember, at 
first, about my own salvation, and scarce reflected that 
there was such a creature as myself. 

“Thus God, I trust, brought me to a hearty disposi- 
tion to exalt him, and set him on the throne, and prir.- 
cipally and ultimately to aim at his honor and glory, 
as King of the universe. I continued in this state of 
inward joy, peace and astonishment, till near dark, 
w:thout any sensible abatement; and then began to 
think and examine what I had seen; and felt sweetly 

_ composed in my mind all the evening following. I 
_ felt myself in a new world, and every thing about me 
appeared with a different aspect from what it was 
- wont to do. ‘ 
_ “At this time the way of salvation opened to me 
with such infinite wisdom, suitableness, and excellency, 
_ that I wondered I should ever think of any other way 
| of salvation; I was amazed that I had not dropped my 
| own contrivances and complied with this lovely, blessed, 
_ and excellent way before. If I could have been saved 
_ by my own duties, or any other way that I had for- 
_merly contrived, my whole saul wouid now have re- 
fused. I wondered that all the world did not see and 
comply with this way of salvation, entirely by the 
| righteousness of Christ. ~ 
_ “The sweet relish of what I then felt continued with 


| me for several days, almost constantly, in a greater or 
| 3 Brainerd. 
, 


26 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap ae 


less degree. I could not but sweetly rejoice in God, 
lying down and rising up. The next Lord’s day I felt 
something of the same kind, though not so powerful 
as before. But not long after, I was again involved in 
darkness, and in great distress ; yet not of the same kind 
with my distress under convictions. I was guilty, 
afraid, and ashamed to come before God; and exceed- 
ingly pressed with a sense of guilt; butit was not long 
before I felt, I trust, true repentance and joy in God. 

“In the beginiiing of September I went to Yale Col- 
lege, and entered there; but with some degree of re- 
luctance, lest I should not be able to lead a life of strict 
religion in the midst of so many temptations. After 
this, in the vacation, before I went to tarry at college, 
it pleased God to visit my soul with clearer manifesta- 
tions of himself and his grace. I was spending some 
time in prayer and self-examination, when the Lord, 
by his grace, so shined into my heart, that I enjoyed 
ful! assurance of his favor, for that time; and my soul 
was unspeakably refreshed with divine and heavenly 
enjoyments. At this time especially, as well as some 
others, sundry passages of God’s word opened to my 
soul with divine clearness, power, and sweetness, so 
as to appear exceeding precious, and with clear and 
certain evidence of its being the word of God. I en- 
joyed considerable sweetness in religion all the winter 
following. ¥ 

“In Jan. 1740, the measles spread muck. in college, 
and I, having taken the distemper, went home to Had- 
dam. Butsome days before I was taken sick I seem- 
ex to be greatly deserted, and my soul meurned the 
absence of the Comforter exceedingly. It seeméd to 
me that all comfort was for ever gone. 1 prayed and 
cried to God for help, yet found no present comfort or 

yh, 


~ A 


(740.] AT YALE COLLEGE. 27 


relief. But through divine goodness, a night or two 
before I was taken ill, while I was walking alone ina 
very retired place, and engaged in meditation and prayer, 
I enjoyed a sweet refreshing visit, as I trust, from above; 
so that my soul was raised far above the fears of death. 
Iideed, I rather longed for death, than feared it. Oh, 
how much more refreshing this one season was, than 
all the pleasures and delights that earth can afford. 
After a day or two I was taken with the measles, and 
was very ill indeed, so that I almost despaired of life; 
but had no distressing fears of death. Through divine 
goodness I soon recovered; yet, owing to hard study, 
and to my being much exposed to interruptions on ac- 


‘count of my freshmanship, I had but little time for spi- 


ritual duties, and my soul often mourned for want of 
more time and opportunity to be alone with God. In 
the spring and summer following I had better advan- 


_ tages for retirement, and enjoyed more comfort in re- 


| 


ligion, though my ambition in my studies greatly 
wronged the activity and vigor of my spiritual life. It 
was, however, usually the case with me, that, “in the 


| multitude of my thoughts within me, God’s comforts 


_ principally delighted my soul.” These were my great- 


est consolations day by day. 
“One day, I think it was in June, 1740, I walked to 


_ aconsiderable distance from college, in the fields alone, 


at noon, and in prayer found such unspeakable sweet- 
ness and delight in God, that I thought, if I must con- 
tinue in this evil world, I wanted always to be there, to 
behold God’s glory. My soul dearly loved all mankind, 
and longed exceedingly that they should enjoy what I 
enjoyed. Itseemed to be a little resemblance of heaven. 

“Some time in August following I became so re- 
duced in health by too close application to my studies, 


ere + 


28 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. I. 


that I was advised by my tutor to go home, and disen- 
gage my mind from study as much as I could ; for I 
was grown so weak that I began to raise blood. I took 
his advice, and endeavored to lay aside my studies. 
But being brought very low,I looked death in the face 
more steadfastly; and the Lord was pleased to give 
me renewedly a sweet sense and relish of divine things; 
and particularly October 13, I found divine help and 
consolation in the precious duties of secret prayer and 
self-examination, and my soul took delight in the bless- 
ed God :—so likewise on the 17th of October. 

Oct. 18. “In my morning devotions my soul was 
exceedingly melted, and bitterly mourned over my 
great sinfulness and vileness. 1 never before had felt so 
pungent and deep a sense of the odious nature of sin, 
as at this time. My soul was then unusually carried 
forth in love to God, and had a lively sense of God’s 
love tome. And this love and hope, at that time cast 
out fear. 

Lord's day, Oct. 19. “In the morning I felt my soul 


hungering and thirsting after righteousness. While I 


was looking on the elements of the Lord’s Supper, and 
thinking that Jesus Christ was now “set forth erucified 
before me,” my soul was filled with light and leve, so 
that I was almost in an ecstacy ; my body was so weak 
I could scarcely stand. I felt at the same time an ex- 
ceeding tenderness and most fervent love toward all 
mankind; so that my soul and all its powers seemed, 
as it were, to melt into softness and sweetness. But 


during the communion there was some abatement of 


this life and fervor. This love and joy cast out fear ; 
and my soullonged for perfect grace and glory. This 
frame continued till the evening, when my soul was 
swectly spiritual in secret duties. 


~ / 


1740.] ‘AT YALE COLLEGE. 29 


Oct. 20. “I again found the assistance of the Holy 
Spirit in secret duties, both morning and evening, and 
life and comfort in religion through the whole day. 

Oct. 21. “Thad likewise experience of the goodness 
of God in ‘shedding abroad his love in my heart,’ and 
giving me delight and consolation in religious duties ; 


_ and all the remaining part of the week my soul seem- 
_ ed to be taken up with divine things. I now so longed 
_ after God, and to be freed from sin, that, when I felt 


myself recovering, and thought I must return to college 
again, which had proved so hurtful to my spiritual in- 


_ terests the year past, I could not but be grieved, and 


thought I had much rather die; for it distressed me to 
think of getting away from God. But before I went 
I enjoyed several other sweet and precious seasons of 
communion with God, (particularly Oct. 30, and Noy. 
4,) wherein my soul enjoyed unspeakable comfort. 

“T returned to college about Nov. 6, and, through 
the goodness of God, felt the power of religion almost 
aeity, for the space os six weeks. 

Nov. 28. “In my evening devotion I enjoyed pre- 
cious discoveries of God, and was unspeakably refresh- 
ed with that passage, Heb. 12: 22-24. My soul longed 
to wing away to the paradise of God; I longed to be 
conformed to God in all things.—A day or two after 
{ enjoyed much of the light of God’s countenance, 
most of the day; and my soul rested in God. 

Dec.9. “Iwas ina comfortable frame of soul most 
of the day; but especially in evening devotions, when 
God was pleased wonderfully to assist and strengthen 
me; so that I thought nothing should ever move me 
from the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord. Oh! 
one hour with God infinitely exceeds all the pleasures 
and delights of this lower world. 

3* 


fa 


30 LIFE OF BRAINERD, [ Chap. 1 


“Toward the latter part of January, 1741, I grew 
more cold and dull in religion, by means of my old 
temptation, ambition in my studies. But through di- 
vine goodness, a great and general awakening spread 
itself over the college, about the end of February, 
in which Iwas much quickened, and more abundantly 
engaged. in religion.” 


This awakening was at the beginning of that extra- 
ordinary religious commotion which then prevailed 
through the land, and in which the college shared 
largely. For thirteen months from this time Brat 
NERD kept a constant diary containing a very particu- - 
jar account of what passed from day to day, making 
two volumes of manuscripts; but when he lay on his 
death bed he gave orders (unknown to me till after his 
death) that these two volumes should be destroyed, 
inserting a notice, at the beginning of the succeeding 
manuscripts, that a specimen of his manner of living 
during that entire period would. be found in the first 
thirty pages next following, (ending with June 15, 
1742,) except. that he was now more “refined from 
some imprudences and indecent heats” than before. 

A circumstance in the life of Bratnerp, which gave 
great offence to the rulers of the College, and occa: 
sioned his expulsion, it is necessary should be here 
particularly related. During the awakening in Col- 
lege, there were several religious students who asso- 
ciated together for mutual conversation and assistance 
in-spiritual things. These were wont freely to open 
themselves one to another, as special and intimate 
friends: Brarverp was one of this company. And it 
once happened, that he and two or three more of these 
intimate friends were in the hall together, after Mr. 


. 


1741.) AT YALE COLLEGE. 31 


Whittlesey, one of the tutors, had engaged in prayer 
with the scholars ; no other person now remaining in 
the hall but Brainerd and his companions. Mr. Whit- 
tlesey having been unusually pathetic in his prayer, one 
of Brainerd’s friends on this occasion asked him bi dig 
he thought of Mr. Whittlesey ; he made answer, “He 
has no more grace than this chair.” One of the fresh- 
men happening at that time tobe near the hall, (though 
not in the room,) over-heard these words ; ol though 
he heard no name mentioned, and knew not who was 


_ thus censured, informed a certain woman in the town, 
| withal telling her his own suspicion, that Brainerd said 


; 


this of some one of the rulers of the College. Where- 
upon she informed the Rector, who sent for this fresh- 
man and examined him. He told the Rector the words 
which heheard Brainerd utter; and informed him who 
were in the room with him at that time. Upon this the 
Rector sent for them. They were very backward to 
inform against their friend respecting what they looked 
upon as private conversation; especially as none but 
they had heard or knew of whom he had uttered those 
words : yet the Rector compelled them to declare what 
he said, and.of whom he said it. Brainerd looked on 
himself as very ill used in the management of this af- 
fair ; and thought that it was injuriously extorted from 
his friends, and then injuriously required of him—as 


_ if he had been guilty of some open, notorious crime— 


to make a public confession, and to humble himself be- 
fore the whole College in the hall, for what he had 
said only in private conversation. He not complying 
with this demand, and having gone once to the Sepa- 
rate meeting at New- -Haven, when forbidden by the 
Rector ; and also having been accused by one person 


of saying concerning the Rector, “that he wondered 


+ > 2 


32 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 11. 


he did not expect to drop down dead for fining 
scholars who followed Mr. Tennent to Milford, th 
there was no proof of it ; (and Brainerd ever prof 
that he did not remember saying any thing to tha 
purpose, ) for these things he was eapelled the college. 

How far the circumstances and exigencies of that 
day might justify such great severity in the governorsot 
the college, I will not undertake to determine; it beng 
my aim, not to bring reproach on the authority of the 
college, but only to do justice to the memory of a per- 
son who was, I think, eminently one of those whose 
memory is blessed.—The reader will see, in the sequel, 
(particularly under date of Septemper 14, 15, 1743,) 
in how christian a manner Brainerd conducted him- 
self with respect to this affair; though he ever, as 
long as he lived, supposed himself ill used in the 
management of it, and in what he suffered.—His ex- 
pulsion was in the winter, 1742, while in his third 
year at college. 


CHAPTER II. 


£ 


From about the time when he began the sludy of Theology, 
till he was licensed to preach. 


April 1, 1742—July 29, 1742. 


In the spring of 1742 Brainerd went to live with 
the Rev. Mr. Mills of Ripton, to pursue his studies 
with him for the work of the ministry. Here he 
Spent the greater part of the time until he was licensed 
to preach ; but frequently rode to visit the neighboring 
ministers, particularly Mr. Cooke of Stratford. Mr. 


1742.) WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 23 


am of Southbury, and Mr. Bellaiy of Bethle- 
Phe following are extracts from his diary at 
lis period. 
"April 1, 1742.—“1 seem to be declining, with res- 
pect to my life and warmth in divine things; have not 
had so free access to God in prayer to-day as usual of 
jate. Oh that God would humble me deeply in the 
_ dust before him! I deserve hell every day, for not 
loving my Lord more, who has, I trust, “loved me 
and given himself for me;” and every time I am ena- 
bled to exercise any grace renewedly, I am renewedly 
indebted to the God of all grace for special assistance. 
““ Where then is boasting?” Surely “it is exeluded,” 
when we think how we are dependent on God for the 
existence and every act of grace. Qif ever I get to 
heaven, it will be because God pleases, and nothing 
else; for I never did any thing of myself but get away 
irom God! My soul will be astonished at the un- 
searchable riches of divine grace when I arrive at the 
mansions which the blessed Savior is gone before 
to prepare. 
April 2.—“ Tn the afternoon I felt, in seeret prayer, 
| much resigned, calm and serene. What are all the 
storms of this lower world if Jesus, by his Spirit, does 
| but come walking on the seas !—Sometime past I had 
much pleasure in the prospect of ‘the Heathen being 
| brought home to Christ, and desired that the Lord 
- would employ me in that work; but now my soul more 
frequently desires to die, to be with Christ. Oh that 
my soul were wrapt up in divine love, and my longing 
desires after God inereased! In the evening was re- 
freshed in prayer, with the hopes of the advancement . 
_ of Christ’s kingdom in the world. 
| Lords day, e: 4.— My heart was wandering 


34 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. II. 


and lifeless. In the evening God gave me faith in 
prayer, made my soul melt in some measure, and gave 
me to taste a divine sweetness. O my blessed God! 
Let me climb up near to him, and love, and long, and 
plead, and wrestle, and stretch after him, and for deli- 
verance from the body of sin and death. Alas! my 
soul mourned to think I should ever lose sight of its 
beloved again. ‘“@O come, Lord Jesus, Amen.” 

April 6.—“T walked out this morning; had an af- 
fecting sense cf my own vileness ; and cried to God to 
cleanse me, to give me repentance and pardon. I then 
began to find !t sweet to pray; and could think of un- 
dergoing the greatest sufferings in the cause of Christ, 
with pleasure ; and found myself willing, if God should 
so order it, to suffer banishment from my native land, 
among the heathen, that I might do something for 
their salvation, in distresses and deaths of any kind. 
Then God gave me to wrestle earnestly for others, for 
the kingdom of Christ in the world, and for dear Chris- 
tian friends. 

April 8.—“ Had raised hopes to-day respecting the 
heathen. Oh that God would bring in great numbers 
of them to Jesus Christ! I cannot but hope that I 
shall see that glorious day. Every thing in this world 
sees exceeding vile and little to me: I appear so to 
myself. I had some little dawn of comfort to-day in 
prayer; but especially to-night, I think I had some 
faith and power of intercession with God. I was en- 
abled to plead with God for the growth of grace in 


_ myself; and many of the dear children of God then 


lay with weight upon my soul. Blessed be the Lord ! 
It is good af wrestle for divine blessings. 

. April 9.—“ Most of my time in morning devotion 
was spent without sensible sweetness ; yet I had one 


~ 


| 1742.) WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. ee 


delightful prospect of arriving at the heavenly world. 
I am more amazed than ever at such thoughts; for J 
see myself infinitely vile and unworthy. No poor 
creature stands in need of divine grace more than], 
and none abuse it more than I have done, and still do. 
Lord’s day, April 11.—“ In the morning I felt but 
little life ; yet my heart was somewhat drawn out in 
thankfulness to God for his amazing grace and con- 
descension to me, in past influences and assistances of 
his Spirit. Afterward, I had some sweetness in the 
thoughts of arriving at the heavenly world. O for the 
happy day! After public worship, God gave me spe- 
cial assistance in prayer; I wrestled with my dear 
Lord, and intercession was made a delightful employ- 
ment to me. In the evening, as I was viewing the 
light in the north, I was delighted in the contemplation 
of the glorious morning of the resurrection. 
April 12.—“ This morning the Lord was pleased to 
lift up the light of his countenance upon me in secret 
prayer, and made the season very precious to my soul. 
Though I have been so depressed of late, respecting 
my hopes of future serviceableness in the cause of God; 
yet now I had much encouragement. I was especially 
assisted to intercede and plead for poor souls, and for 
the enlargement of Christ’s kingdom in the world, and 
for special grace for myself, to fit me for special ser- 
vices. My faith lifted me above the world, and re- 
moved all those mountains over which of late I could 
not look. I wanted not the favor of man to lean upon ; 
for I knew that Christ’s favor was infinitely better, and 
that it was no matter when nor where, nor how Christ 
should send me, nor what trials he should still exercise 
me with, if I might be prepared for his work and will. 
April 14.—* My, soul. longed for communion with 
i Ms yok Sl aa 
“i ' Abe 


oe 


36 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | Chap. 11. 


Christ, and. for the mortification of re a corrup- 
tion, ‘especially spiritual pride. O, there is a sweet 
day coming, wherein a the foes will be at. rest!” 
My soul has enjoyed much sweetness this day, in the 
hope of its speedy arrival. 

April 15.—“ My desires apparently centered in God ; 
and I found a sensible attraction of soul after him sun- 
dry times to-day. I know that J long for God, and a 
conformity to his will, in inward purity and holiness, 
ten thousand times more than for any thing here 
below. 

Lords day, April 18.—* 1 retired early this morn- 
ing into the woods for prayer; had the assistance of 
God’s Spirt, and faith in exercise; and was enabled to 
plead with fervency for the advancement of Christ’s 


kingdom in the world, and to intercede for dear, absent 


friends. At noon, God enabled me to wrestle with 
him, and to feel, as I trust, the power of-divine love 
in prayer. At night, I saw myself infinitely indebted 
to God, and had a view of my failures in duty. It. 
seemed to me that I had done, as it were, nc thing for 
God, and that I had dived to him but a ‘Sore hours o1~ 
my jie, 

April 19.—* I set apart this day for fasting and 
prayer to God for his grace; especially to prepare me 
for the work of the ministry ; to give me divine aid 
and direction, in my preparations for that great work; 
and in his own time to send me into his harvest. Ac- 
cordingly, in the morning I endeavored to plead for 


the divine presence for the day, and not without some 


life. In the forenoon I felt the power of intercession 
“for precious, immortal souls; for the advancement of 
the kingdom of my dear Lord and Savior in the world ; 
‘ and withal, a most sweet resignation, and even conso- 


Ey: +h Hy 
. ia ite a 


1742. } WHILE STUDYING THEOWOGY. 37 


logis and joy, in the thoughts of suffering Sea i 
distresses, and even death itself, in the promotion of its 
and had special enlargement in pleading for the en- 
lightening and conversion of the poor heathen. In the 
afternoon God was with me of a truth. O, it was 
blessed company indeed! God enabled me so to ago- 
nize in prayer, that I was quite wet with sweat, though 
in the shade and the cool wind. My soul was drawn 
out very much for the world; I grasped for muautitudes 
of souls. I think I had more enlargement for sinners 


| than for the children of Ged ; though I felt as if I could 
| Sper my life in cries for both. I had great enjoy- 


ment in communion with my dear Savior. . I think I 
never in my life felt such an entire weanedness from 


_ this world, and so much resigned to God in every 
thing. Othat I may always live to and upon my | 
| blessed God! Amen, Amen. 
| April 20.—“ This day I am twenty-four years of - 
age. O how much mercy have I received:the year 


past! How often has God “zaused his goodness to 


| pass before me!” And how poorly have I answered 


the vows I made one year since, to be wholly the 
Lord’s, to be for ever devoted to his service! The 


Lord help me to live more to his glory for the time to 
_come. This has been a sweet, a happy day to me; 


blessed be God. I think my soul wag never so drawn 
out in intercession for others, as it has been this night. 


_ Had a most fervent wrestle with the Lord to-night, for 


my enemies; and I hardly ever so longed to live to 


God, and tobe altogether devoted to him ; I wanted to 


wear out my life in his service, and for his | 
April 21, “Felt much calmness and resigna 


and God again enabled me to wrestle for pent of t 
| Souls, and gave me fervenc in 


Brainerd 


‘the sweet duty of of in ; 


38. LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 11. 


tercession. I enjoy of late more sweetness in inter- 
cession for others, than in any other part of prayer. 
My blessed Lord really let me come near to him, and 
plead with him. : 


Lord’s day, April 25. “This morning I spent about 
two hours in secret duties, and was enabled, more than 
ordinarily, to agonize for immortal souls. At night I 
was exceedingly melted with divine love, and had some 
feeling sense of the blessedness of the upper world. 
Those words hung upon me with much divine sweet- 
ness. Psa. 84:7. “They go from strength to strength, 
every one of them in Zion appeareth before God.” O 
the near access that God sometimes gives us in our ad- 
dresses to him! This may well be termed “appearing 
before God :” it is so indeed, in the true spiritual sense, 
and in the sweetest sense. I think that I have not had 
such power of intercession these many months, both 
for God’s children, and for dead sinners, as I have had 


‘this evening. I wished and longed for the coming of 


my dear Lord: I longed to join the angelic hosts in 
praises, wholly free from imperfection. O, the blessed 
moment hastens! All I-want is to be more holy, more 
like my dear Lord. Oh for sanctification! My very 
soul pants for the complete restoration of the biessed 
image of my Savior; that I may be fit for the blessed — 


“enjoyments and employments of the heavenly world. 


“Farewell, vain world; my soul can bid Adieu 
“My Savior taught me to abandon you. 
“Your charms may gratify a SENSUAL mind; 

_ “Butcannot please a soul for Gop design’d. 
“Forbear t’ entice; cease then my soul to call; 
“? Tis fixed through grace; my God shall be my ann. 
“While he thus lets me heavenly glories view, 
“Your beauties fade, my heart’s no room for you.” 


ae ee 


1742.) . WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 39 


“The Lord refreshed my soul with many sweet pas- 
sages of his word. O the New Jerusalem: my soul 
longed for it. O the song of Moses and the Lamb! 
And that blessed song, that no man can learn but they 
who are “redeemed from the earth!” 


“Lord, I’m a stranger here alone: 
“Earth no true comforts can afford; 
“Yet, absent. from my dearest one, 
“My soul delights to cry ‘My Lord!’ 

“ Jnsus, my Lord. my only love, 
Possess my soul, nor thence depart: 

“ Grant me kind visits, heavenly Dove ; 
“My God shall then have all my heart.” 


April 27. “I arose and retired early for secret de- 
votions; and in prayer, God was,pleased to pour such 
ineffable comforts into my soul, that I could do nothing 
for some time but say over and over, “O my sweet Sa- 
vior! whom have I in Heaven but thee? and there is 
none upon earth that I desire beside thee.” If I had 
a thousand lives, my soul would gladly have laid them 
all down at once, to have been with Curist. My soul 
never enjoyed so much of heaven before; it was the 
most refined and most spiritual season of communion 
with God I ever yet felt. 

April 28.—“I withdrew to my usual place of retire- 
ment, in great peace and tranquility, spent about two 
hours in secret duties, and felt much as I did yester- 
day morning, only weaker, and more overcome, I 
seemed to depend wholly on my dear Lord; weaned 
fi all other dependencies. I knew not what to say 
to my God, but only lean on his bosom, as it were, and 
breathe out my desires after a perfect conformity to 
him inall things. Thirsting desires after perfect holi- 
ness, and insatiable longings possessed my soul. iGge 


¥ 


40 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 1), 


was so precious to me that the world, with all its enjoy 
ments, was infinitely vile. I had no more value for 
the favor of men, than for pebbles. The Lorp wasmy 
ALL, and that he over-ruled all, greatly delighted me. 
I think that my faith and dependence on God scarce 
ever rose so high. I saw him such a Jountain of good- 
ness that it seemed impossible I should distrusi nim 
again, or be any way anxious abont any thing that 
should happen to me. I now had great satisfaction in 
praying for absent friends, and for the enlargement of 
Christ’s kingdom in the world. Much of the power of 
these divine enjoyments remained with me through 
the day. In the evening my heart seemed to melt, and 
I trust was really humbled for indwelling corruption, 
and I “mourned like a dove.” I felt that all my un- 
happiness arose from my being a sinner. With resig- 
nation, I could bid welcome to all other trials; but sin 
hung heavy upon me; for God discovered to me the 
corruption of my heart. J went to bed with a heavy 
heart, becuuse Iwas a sinner ; though I did not in the 
least doubt of God’s love. O that God would “ purge 
away my dross, and take away my tin,” and make me 
ten times refined ! 

May 1.—“1I was enabled to ery to God with fer- 
vency for ministerial qualifications, that he would ap- 
pear for the advancement of his own kingdom, and 
that he would bring in the Heathen. Had much assis- 
tance in my studies. This has been a profitable week 
to me; I have enjoyed many communications of. the 
blessed Spirit in my soul. 

May 3.—‘“ Had a sense of vile ingratitude. Inthe 
‘morning I withdrew to my usual place of retirement, 
and mourned for my abuse of my dear Lord; spent 
the day in fasting and prayer. ~ God gave me muca 


— 


ey 


' 1742.4 WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 4b 


power of wrestling for his cause and kingdom ; and it 
was a happy day to my soul. God was with me all 
the day; and I was more above the world than ever in 
my life. 

May 13.—(At Wethersfield.) “Saw so much of the 
wickedness of my heart that I longed to get away 
. from myself. I never before thought that there was 
_ so much spiritual pride in my soul. I felt almost 
pressed to death with my own vileness. O what a 
“body of death” is therein me! Lord deliver my soul! 
(could not find any convenient place for retirement, 
and was greatly exercised. Rode to Hartford in the 
afternoon; had some refreshment and comfort in reli- 
gious exercises with christian friends; but longed for 
more retirement. O, the closest wa!k with God is the 
sweetest heaven that can be enjoyed on earth! 

June 14.—“ Felt somewhat of the sweetness of com- 
munion with God, and the constraining force of his 
love; how admirably it captivates the soul, and makes 
all the desires and affections centre in God !—I set 
apart this day for secret fasting and prayer, to entreat 
God to direct and bless me with regard to the great work 
| which Ihave in view, of preaching the gospel—and that 
. the Lord would return to me, and individually “show 
me the light of his countenance.” Had little life and 
power in the forenoon: near the middle of the afternoon 
God enabled me to wrestle ardently in intercession for 
absent friends: but just at night the Lord visited me 
marvyellously in er. 1 think my soul never Was in 
such an agony before. I felt no restraint, for the trea- 

- of divin@ grace were opened to me. I wrestled 
fal absent friends, for the ingathering of souls, for 
multitudes of poor souls, and for many that I prenets 
were the children of G 


ip 


(7 


42 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. I. 


was in such an agony, from half an hour before sun- 
set, till near dark, that I was all over wet with sweat: 
but yet it seemed to me that I had wasted away the 
day, and had done nothing. O, my dear Savior did 
sweat blood for poor souls! I longed for more com- 
passion toward them. Felt still in a sweet frame, under 
asense of divine love and grace; and went to bed: in 
such a frame, with my heart set on God. 

June 15.—“ Had the most ardent longings after God. 
At noon, in my secret retirement, I could do nothing 
but tell my dear Lord, in a sweet calm, that he knew | 
desired nothing but himself, nothing but holiness ; that 
he had given me these desires, and he only could give 
ine the thing desired. I never seemed to be so un- 
hinged from myself, and to be so wholly devoted to 
God. My heart was swallowed up in God most of the 
day. In the evening I had such a view of the soul be- 
ing, as it were, enlarged, to contain more holiness, that 
it seemed ready to separate from my body. I then 
wrestled in an agony for divine blessings; had my 
heart drawn out in prayer for some christian friends, 
beyond what I ever had before. I feel differently now 
from what I ever did under any enjoyments before; 
more engaged to live to God for ever, and less pleased 
with my own frames. I am not satisfied with my 
frames, nor feel at all more easy after such struggiings 
than,before ; for it seems far too little, if I could al- 
ways be so. O how short do I fall of my duty in my | 
sweetest moments! 

June 18.—“ Considering my great unfitness for the 

_ work of the ministry, my present deadhess, and total 
inability to.do any thing for the glory of God that way, 
feeling myself very helpless, and at a great loss what 
the Lord would have me to do; Is art this day for 


4 


a em 


ry. 
se 


? 
1742.] WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 43 


prayer to Ged, and spent most of the day in that duty 
but was amazingly deserted most ‘of the day. Yet] 
found God graciously near, once in particular ; while 1 


| was pleading for more compassion for immortal souls, 
_ my heart seemed to be opened at once, and I was ena- 
_ bled to cry with great ardency for afew minutes. O, 
| Iwas distressed to think, that I should offer such dead 
cold services to the living God! My soul seemed to 


breathe after holiness, a life of constant devotedness to 
| God. But Iam almost lost sometimes in the pursuit 
of this blessedness, and ready to sink, because ! con- 
tinuaily fall short, and miss of my desire. .O that the 
Lord would help me to hold out, yet a little while, until 
the happy hour of deliverance comes! 

June 30.—“ Spent this day alone in the woods, in 

| fasting and prayer ; underwent the most dreadful con- 
_ flicts in my soul. I saw myself so vile that I was 
ready to say, “I shall now perish by the hand of 
Saul.” I thought that I had no power to stand for the 
-cause of God, but was almost afraid of the shaking of 
aleaf. Spent almost the whole day in prayer, inces- 
santly. I could not bear to think of Christians show- 
ing me any respect. I almost despaired of doing any 
service in the world: I could not feel any hope or 
' comfort respecting the heathen, which used to afford 
me some refreshment in the darkest hours of this na- 
ture. I spent the day in bitterness of soul. Near 
night I felt a little better; and afterward enjoyed 
some sweetness in secret prayer. 

July 1—“ Had some enjoyment in prayer this morn- 
/ mg; and far more than usual in secret prayer to-night, 
| and desired nothing so ardently as that Gy should do 

with me just as he pleased. 
| Sulu 2.—* le in secret prayer in the 
t 


| 


| viii 


ome 


v 
- 
¢ 4 


44 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. II. 


morning. My desires ascended to God this day, as 
I was traveling: was Comfortable in the evening. 
Blessed be God for all my consolations. . 

July 3.—* My heart seemed again to sink. The dis- 
grace I was laid under at college seemed to damp my 
spirits ; as it opens the mouths of opposers. I had no 
refuge but in God. Blessed be his name, that I may 
go to him at all times, and find him a “ present help.” 

Lord’s day, July 4.—“ Had considerable assistance. 
In the evening I withdrew, and enjoyed a happy sea- 
son in secret prayer. God was pleased to give me the 
exercise of faith; and thereby brought the invisible 
and eternal world near to my soul; which appeared 
sweetly tome. I hoped that my Weary pilgrimage in 
the world would be short ; and that it would not be 
long before 1 should be brought to my heavenly home 
and Father’s house. I was resigned to God’s will, to 
tarry his time, to do his work, and suffer his pleasure. 


» I felt thankfulness to God for all my pressing desertions 


of late; for I am persuaded that they have been made. 
a means of making me more humble, and much more 
resigned. I felt pleased to be little, to be nothing, and 
to lie in the dust. I enjoyed life and consolation in 
pleading for the dear children of God, and the king-. 
dom of Christ in the world: and my soul earnestly 
breathed after holiness, and, the enjoyment of God. 
“ O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.” 


_ | July 29.—“ I was examined by the Association met 
at Danbury, as to my learning, and also my experience 


in religion, and received a licence from them to preach 


_ the Gospel of Christ. Afterward felt much devoted 


to God; joined in prayer with one of the ministers, 
my peculiar friend, in a convenient place; and went 
to bed resolving to live devoted to God all my days.” 


~~ 


1742.) WHILE A LICENTIATE. 45 


CHAPTER Ifi. 


| From his being licensed to preach, till he was commissioned as a 


Missionary. 
July 30.—Nov. 25, 1742. 


July 30, 1742.—“ Rode from Danbury to South- 
bury ; preached there, from 1 Pet.4:8. Had much 


_ of the comfortable presence of God in the exereise. I 


seemed to have power with God in prayer, and powen 
to get hold of the hearts of the people in preaching. 
Aug. 12. (Near Kent.)—“ This morning and last 
night I was exercised with sore inward trials: I had 
no power to pray; but seemed shut out from God. I 


| had in a great measure Jost my hopes of God’s send- 
ing me among the Heathen afar off, and of seeing 
them flock home to Christ. I saw so much of my 


vileness, that I wondered that God would let me live. 


_and that people did not stone me; much more that 
_ they would ever hear me preach! It seemed as though 
[never could preach any more; yet about nine or ten 


o’clock the people came over, and I was forced to 
preach ; and blessed be God, he gave me his presence 
and Spirit-in prayer and preaching; so that I was 
much assisted, and spake with power, from Job, 14: 14, 
, Some Indians residing here, cried out in great dis- 
“tress, and all appeared erent concerned. After we 
had prayed and exhorted them to seek the Lord with 
_eonstaney, and hired an Englishwoman to keep a kind 
of school among them, we came away.” 

Lord's day, Auer. 15.—“ Felt much comfort and de- 
votedness to God thisday. At night, it was refresh- 
ig to get alone with God, and pow7 owt my soul. O, 


af 


1 
i 
} 
i 


= 


<a 


46 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ' Chap. I. 


who can conceive of the sweetness of communion 
with the blessed God, but those who have experience 
of it! Glory to cy for ever, that 1 may taste heavy en 
below. 

Aug. 17.—“ jirecoaidiely depressed in spirit, it cuts 
and wounds my heart to think how much self-exalta- 
tion, spiritual pride, and warmth of temper, I have 
formerly had intermingled with my endeavors to pro- 
mote God’s work: and sometimes I long to lie down 
at the feet of opposers, and confess what a poor im- 
perfect creature [I have been, and still am. ‘The Lord 
forgive me, and make me, for the future, “ wise asa 
serpent, and harmless as a dove !” Afterward en- 
joyed considerable;comfort and delight of soul. 

Aug. 19.—“ This day, being about to go from’ Mr. 
Bellamy’s, at Lethlehem, where I had resided some 
time, I raped with him ibe two or three other Chris- 
tian friends. We gave ourselves:to God with all our 
hearts, to be his for ever: eternity looked very near 
to me while I was praying. If I never should see 
these Christians again in this world, it seemed but a 
few moments before I should meet them in another 
world. 

Aug. 23.—“ Had a sweet season in secret prayer: 
the Lord. drew near to my soul, and filled me with 
peace afd divine consolation. O, my soul tasted the 
sweetness of heaven; and was drawn out in prayer 
for the world, that it might come home to Christ! 
Had much comfort in the thoughts and hopes of the 
ingathering of the Heathen; was greatly assisted in 
intercession for-Christian friends. y 

Sept. 1—“ Went to Judea to the ordination of Mr. 
Judd. Mr. Bellamy preached from Matt. 24: 46. 
‘Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when he 


¥ 


a 


1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 47 


cometh, shall find so doing.’ I felt very solemn; had 
my thoughts much on that time when our Lord will 
come, which refreshed my soul much; only I was 
afraid i should not be found faithful, because I have 
so vile a heart. My thoughts were much in eternity 
where I love to dwell. Blessed be God for this solemn 
season. Rode home to night with Mr. Bellamy, con- 
versed with some friends till it was very late, and then 
retired to rest in a comfortable frame. 

Sept. 4.—“ Much out of health, ex¢eedingly depressed 
in my soul, and at awful distance from God. Toward 
night, spent some time in profitable thoughts on Rom. 
8:2. Near night, had a very sweet season in prayer ; 
God enabled me to wrestle ardently for the advance- 
ment of the Redeemer’s kingdom ; pleaded earnestly 
for my own dear brother John, (who at length became 
his successor as a Missionary to the Indians,) that-God 
would make him more of a pilgrim and stranger on 
the earth, and fit him for singular serviceableness in 
the world ; and my heart sweetly exulted in the Lord, 
in the thoughts of any distresses that might alight on 
him or on me, in the advancement of Christ’s king- 

‘dom. It was asweet and comfortable hour unto my 
- soul, while I was indulged with freedom to plead, not 
only for myself, but also for many other souls. 

Sept. 16.—*“‘ At night, enjoyed much of God, in se- 
eret prayer: felt an uncommon resignation to be and 
do what God pleased. Some days past I felt great 
perplexity on account of my past conduct: my bitter- 
ness, and want of Christian kindness and love, has 
been very distressing to my soul: the Lord forgive 
me my unchristian warmth, and want of a spirit of 
meekness ! 

Oct. 21.—“ Had avery deep sense of the vanity of 


a 


48 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. If. 


the world, most of the day ; had litt!e more regard to 
it, than if I had been to go into eternity the next hour. 
Through divine goodness, I felt very serious and 
svlemn. O J love to live on the brink of eternity, inmy 
views and meditations! This gives mea sweet, awful 
and reverential sense and apprehension of God an 
divine things, when I see myself as it were, standing 
before the judgment seat of Christ. 

Oct. 22.—“ Uncommonly weaned from the world to 
day: my soul delighted to be a “stranger and pilgrim 
on the earth ;” I felt a disposition in me never to have 
any thing to do with this world. The character given 
of some of the ancient people of God, in Heb. 11 : 13, 
was very pleasing to me, “ They confessed that they 
were pilgrims and strangers on the earth,” by their 
daily practice; and O that I could always do so! 
Spent some time in a pleasant grove, in ‘prayer and 
meditation. O it is sweet to be thus weaned from 
friends, and from myself, and dead to the present 
world, that so I may live wholly to and upon the 
blessed God! Saw myself little, low and vile as I am 
in myself. In the afternoon preached at Bethlehem 
from Deut. 8:2. God helped me to speak to the 
hearts of dear Christians. Blessed be the Lord for this 
season: I trust they and I shall rejoice on this account. 
to all eternity. Dear Mr. Bellamy came in while I 
was making the first prayer, (having returned home 

from a journey,) and after meeting we walked. away 
together, and spent the evening in sweetly conversing 
on divine things, and praying together, with tender 

_love to each other, and retired to rest with our heat 
in a serious spiritual frame. = 

Oct. 26.—“[At West Suffield.] Was in great dis- 
tress, under a sense of my own unworthiness. It 


+ 


* 
is. ee 


7 


1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 49 


seemed to me that I deserved rather to be driven out 
of the place, than to have any body treat me with 
kindness, or come to hear me preach. And verily my 
Spirits were so depressed at this time (as at many 
others) that it was impossible I should treat immortal 
souls with faithfulness. I could not deal closely and 
faithfully with them, I felt so infinitely vile in myself. 
O what dust and ashes I am, to think of preaching the 
Gospel to others! Indeed, I never can be faithful for 
one moment, but shall certainly “daub with untem 
pered mortar,” if God do not grant me special help. 
In the evening I went to the meeting-house, and it 
looked to me near as easy for one to rise out of the 


grave and preach, as for me. ° However, God afforded 


me some life and power, both in prayer and sermon; 
and was pleased to lift me up, and show me that he 
could enable me to preach. O the wonderful goodness 
of God to sovile a sinner! Returned to my lodgings, 
and enjoyed some sweetness in prayer alone, and 
mourned that I could not live more to God. - 
November 4.—“ [At Lebanon.] Saw much of my 
nothingness most of this day ; but felt concerned that: 
[had no more sense of my insufficiency and unwor- 
thiness. O it is sweet lying in the dust! But it'is dis- 
tressing to feel in my soul that hell of corruption 
which still remains in me. In the afternoon had a 
sense of the sweetness of a strict, close, and constant 
devotedness to God, and my soul was comforted with 
his consolations. My soul felt a pleasing, yet painful 
concern, lest I should spend some moments without 
God. O may I always live to God! In the evening I 
was visited by some friends, and spent the time in 
prayer, and such conversation as tended to our edifica- 
tion. It was a comfortable season to my soul : I felt an 
5 Brainerd. 


by | 
ee te 


50 LIFE OF BRAINERD, > [Chap. II, 


intense-desire to spend every moment for God. God 
is unspeakably gracious to me continually. In times 
past, he has given me inexpressible sweetness in the 
performance of duty. Frequently my soul has enjoyed 
much of God ; but has been ready to say, “ Lord, it is 
good to be here,” and so to indulge sloth, while I have 
lived on my enjoyments. But of late, God has been 
pleased to keep my, soul hungry, almost continually ; 
so that I have been filled with a kind of pleasing pain. 
When I really enjoy God I feel my desires of him the 
more insatiable, and my thirstings after holiness the 
more unquenchable; and the Lord will not allow me 
to feel as though I were fully supplied and satisfied, 
but keeps me still reaching forward. I feel barren and 
empty, as though I could not live without more of 
God; I feel ashamed and guilty before him. I see that 
“the law is spiritual, but I am carnal.” Ido not, I 
cannot live to God. O for holiness! O for more of 
God in my soul! O this pleasing pain! It makes my 
soul press after God; the language of it is, “ Then 
shall I be satisfied, when I awake in God’s likeness,” 
but never, never before: and consequently, I am en- 
gaged to “press toward the mark,” day by day. O 
that I may feel this continual hunger, and not be re- 
tarded, but rather animated, by every cluster from Ca- | 
naan, to reach forward in the narrow way for the full 
enjoyment and possession of the heavenly inheritance! 
O that I may never loiter in my heavenly journey !” 

Lord’s day, Nov. '7.—“ [At Millington.] It seemed 
as if such an unholy wretch as I never could arrive at 
that blessedness, to be “holy, as God is holy.” At | 
noon, I longed for sanctification, and conformity to 
God. O that is THe att, THE aut. The Lord help me 
to press after God for ever. ee 


¥ ; 
aie 
af et — 


a ae 
ot 


1742.) ’ WHILE A LICENTIATE. 51 
Nov. 8.—“ Toward night, enjoyed much sweetness 
| jin secret prayer. so that my soul longed for an arrival 

in the heavenly country, the blessed paradise of God. 
Through divine goodness I have scarce seen the day 
_ for two months, in which death has not looked so plea- 
sant to me, at one time or other of the day, that I could 
_ have rejoiced that it should be my last, notwithstand- 
_ ing my present inward trials and conflicts. I trust the 
Lord will finally make me a conqueror, and more than 
| a conqueror ; and that I shall be able to use that trium- 
phant language, “ O death, where is thy sting ! O grave, 
where is thy victory !” 

Nov. 19.—“ [At New-Haven.] Received a letter from 
_ the Rev. Mr. Pemberton, of New-York, desiring me 
speedily to go down thither, and consult in reference 
_ to the evangelizing of the Indians in those parts; and 
to meet certain gentlemen there who were intrusted 
_ with those affairs. My mind was instantly seized with 
/ concern; so I retired, with two or three Christian 
friends, and prayed ; and indeed it was a sweet time 
| with me. I was enabled to leave myself, and all my 
concerns with God ; and taking leave of friends, I rode 
to Ripton, and was comforted in an opportunity to see 
and converse with dear Mr. Mills.” 

Nov. 24.—“ Came to New-York; felt still much con- 
cerned about the importance of my business; made 
many earnest requests to God for his help and direc= 
tion; was confused with the noise and tumult of the 
_city ; enjoyed but little time alone with God; but my 
| soul longed after him. 
_ Nov. 25.—“ Spent much time in prayer and suppli- 
cation : was examined in reference to my Christian ex- 
perience, my acquaintance with divinity, and some 
other studies and my Shalifications for the important 


a 


' ‘pointed if they knew my inside! O my heart! And 


- Mess, and endeavored as muchas I could to keep alone. 
_ O what a nothing, what dust and ashes amI! Enjoyed 


= 
52 LIFE OF BRAINERD. _ [Chap. Iv 


work of evangelizing the heathen ,* and was made sen- — 
sible of my great ignorance and unfitness for public 
service. I had the most abasing thoughts of myself; 
I felt that I was the worst wretch that ever lived: it 
pained my very heart, that any body should show me 
any respect. Alas! methought how sadly they are 
deceived in me! how miserably would they be disap- 


| 
: 
| 
: 
: 
: 
/ 
. 


in this depressed condition I was foreed to go and 
preach to a considerable assembly, before some grave 
and learned ministers ; but felt such a pressure from 2 
sense of my vileness, ignorance, and unfitness to ap- 
pear in public, that I was almost overcome with it; 
my soul was grieved for the congregation, that they 
should sit there to hear such a dead dog as I preach. 
[ thought myself infinitely indebted to the people, and 
longed that God would reward them with the rewards 
of his grace. I spent much of the evening alone.” 


CHAPTER Iv. 
From his appointment os a Missionary, to his commencing kis | 
Mission among the Indians at Kaxnaumeck, in New-York. 
; Nov. 26, 1742—Merch 31, 1743. 
Nov. 26, 1742.—“ Had still a sense of my great vile- 


* Mr. Brainerd was examined by the correspondents in New 
York, New-Jersey. and Pennsylvania, of the Society im Scot- 
land for propagating Christian knowledge ; toy on e 

¥ i i anne 


1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 53 


some peace and comfort in spreading my complaints 
before the God of all grace. 

Nov. 27.—“ Committed my soul to God with some 
degree of comfort; left New-York about nine in the 
morning; came away with a distressing sense still of 
my unspeakable unworthiness. ‘Surely I may well 
love all my brethren; for none of them all is so vile 
as I: whatever they do outwardly, yet it seems to me 
none is conscious of so much guilt before God. O my 


_ leanness, my barrenness, my carnality, and past bitter- 


ness, and want of a gospel temper! These things op- 
press my soul. Rode from New-York, thirty miles, to 
White Plains, and most of the way continued lifting 
up my heart to God for mercy and purifying grace; 
and spent the evening much dejected in spirit. 

Dec. 1.—‘ My soul breathed after God, in sweet 
spiritual and longing desires of conformity to him, 
and was brought to rest itself on his rich grace, and 
felt strength and encouragement to do or suffer any 
thing,that divine providence should allot me. Rode 
about twenty miles, from Stratfield to Newtown.” 

Within the space of the next nine days he wenta 


_ journey from Newtown to Haddam, his native town; 


and after staying there some days, returned again 
into the western part of Connecticut, and came to 
Southbury. 

Dec. 11.“ Conversed with a dear friend, to whom 
I had thought of giving a liberal education, and being 
at the whole charge of it, that he might be fitted forthe 
gospel ministry.* I acquainted him with my thoughts 


* Brainerd, haying now undertaken the business of a mis- 
sionary to the Indians, and having some estate left him by his 


| father, judged that there was no way in which he could spend 
| it more for the glory of God, than by being at the charge of 
5 


y 


54 .. LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IV 


on the subject, and so lefi him to consider of it, till I 
should see-him again. Then I rode to Bethlehem, 
came to Mr. Bellamy’s lodgings, and spent the evening 
with him in sweet conversation and prayer. We com- 
mended the concern of sending my friend to college 
to the God of all grace. Blessed be the Lord for this 
evening’s opportunity together. : 

Lords day, Dec. 12.—“T felt, in the morning, as if 
Thad little or no power either to pray or preach; and 
felt a distressing need of divine help. I went to meeting 
wembling ; but it pleased God to assist me in prayer 
and sermon. I think my soul scarce ever penetrated 
so far into the immaterial world, in any one prayer 
that I ever made, nor were my devotions ever so free 
from gross conceptions and imaginations framed from 
beholding material objects. I preached with some 
satisfaction, from Matt. 6: 33. “But seek ye first the 
kingdom of God,” &c.; and in the afternoon, from 
Rom. 15: 30. “And now I beseech you brethren,” 
&ec. There was much affection in the assembly, This 
has been a sweet Sabbath to me; and blessed be God, 
I have reason to think that my religion has become 
more spiritual by means of my late inward conflicts. 
Amen. May I always be willing that God should use 
his own methods with me! 

Dec, 14.—“Some perplexity hung on my mind; I 
was distressed last night and this morning for the in- 
terests of Zion, especially on account of the Salse ap- 
pearances of religion, that do but rather breed confu- 
— ° ' 
educating some young man of talents and piety for the minis- 
try. The young man here spoken of was selected for this pur- 
pose, and received his education at Brainerd’s expense, so 
Jong as his benefactor lived, which was till he was carried 


through his third year in college. mS : 


¥ 


1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 55 


sion, especially in some places. I cried to God for 
help, to enable me to bear testimony against those 
things, which, instead of promoting, do but hinder the 
progress of vital piety. In the afternoon, rode down 
to Southbury, and conversed again with my friend 
on the important subject of his pursuing the work of 
the ministry; and he appeared much inclined to de- 
vote himself to it, if God should succeed his attempts 
to qualify himself for so great a work. In the evening 
I preached from 1 Thess. 4:8, and endeavored, though 
with tenderness, to undermine false religion. 'The 
Lord gave me some assistance. 

Dec. 15.—“ Enjoyed something of God to-day, both 
in secret and social prayer ; but was sensible of much 
barrenness and defect in duty, as well as my inability to 
help myself for the time to come, or to perform the 
work and business I have todo. Afterward, felt much 
of the sweetness of religion, and the tenderness of the 
gospel-temper. I found a dear love to all mankind, 
and was much afraid lest some motion of anger or 


_ resentment should, from time to time creep into my 


heart. Had some comforting, soul-refreshing discourse 
with dear friends, just as we took our leave of each 
other; and supposed it might be,we should not meet 


_ again till we came to the eternal world.* I doubt not 


but, through grace, some of us shall have a happy 


*ft had been determined by the Commissioners, who em- 
ployed Brainerd as a missionary, that he should go, as soon as 
might be conveniently, to the Indians living near the Forks of 
Delaware river, and the Indians on Susquehanna river. The 
distance of those places, and his probable exposure to many 
hardships and dangers, was the occasion of his taking leave 
of his friends in this manner. , 


56 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. IV. 


meeting there, and biess God for this season, as well as 
many others. Amen. tad 

Dec. 18. “Spent much time in prayer in the woods ; 
and seemed raised above the things of the world: my 
soul was strong in the Lord of Hosts ; but was sensible 
of great barrenness. 

Dec, 23.—“ Enjoyed, I trust, the presence of God 
this morning in secret. O, how divinely sweet is it 
to come into the secret of his presence, and abide in 
his pavilicn ! 

Dec. 27.—“ Enjoyed a precious season indeed ; had 
a melting sense of divine things, of the pure spirituality 
of the religion of Christ Jesus. In the evening I 
preached from Matt. 6:33. with much freedom, power 
and pungency: the presence of God attended our meet- 
ing. O, the sweetness, the tenderness I felt in my 
soul! If ever I felt the temper of Christ, I had some 
sense of it now. Blessed be my God, I have seldom 
enjoyed a more comfortable and profitable day than 
this. O, that I could spend all my time for God! 

Jan. 14, 1743.—“My spiritual conflicts to-day were 
unspeakably dreadful, heavier than the mountains and 
over-flowing floods. I was deprived of all sense of 
God, even of the being of a God; and that was my 
misery. The torments of the damned, I am sure, will 
consist much in a privation of God, and consequ 
of all good. This taught me the absolute dependence 
of a creature upon God the Creator, for every crumb 
of happiness it enjoys. O, I feel that, if there is no | 
God, though I might live for ever here, and enjoy not 
only this, but all other worlds, I should be ten thousand 

es more miserable than a reptile. be 

Lord’s day, Jan. 23.—‘TI scarce ever felt myself so 
unfit to exist as now: saw I was not worthy of a place 
i 


1743. | WHILE A LICENTIATE. 57 


among the Indians, where I am going, if God permit: 
thought I should be ashamed to look them in the face, 
and much more to have any respect shown me there. 
Indeed I felt myse!f banished from the earth, as if all 


‘places were too good for such a wretch. I thought I 


should be ashamed to go among the very savages of 
Africa; I appeared to myself a creature fit for nothing, 
neither heaven nor earth. None know but those who 
feel it, what the soul endures that is sensibly shut out 
from the presence of God: alas! it is more bitter than 
death. 

Feb. 2.—“ Preached my farewell sermon last night, 
at the house of an.aged man, who had been unable to 
attend on public worship for some time. This morn- 
ing spent the time in prayer, almost wherever I went ; 
and having taken leave of friends, Isetouton my journey 
toward the Indians; though I was first to spend some 
weeks at East-Hampton, on Long-Island, by leave of 
the commissioners; the winter season being judged 
unfavorable for the commencement of the mission. 

Feb. 12.—[At East-Hampton.] “Enjoyed a little 
more comfort ; was enabled to meditate with some com- 


| posure of mind; and especially in the evening, found 


my soul more refreshed in prayer than at any time of 
late ; my soulseemed to “take hold of God’s strength,” 
and was comforted with his consolations. O, how 
sweet are some glimpses of divine glory! how Saat 
ening and quickening ! 

Feb. 15. “Early in the day I felt some comfort, 
afterward I walked into a neighboring grove, and felt 
more as a stranger on earth, I think, than ever before; 
dead to any of the enjoyments of the world. In the 
evening had divine sweetness in secret duty: God was 
then my portion, and my soul rose above those deep 


‘ 
58 ; LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. IV 


waters, into'which I have sunk so low of late. My 
soul then cried for Zion, and had sweetness in so doing.” 

Feb. 17.—“ Preached this day at a little village in 
East-Hampton; and God was pleased to give me his 
gracious presence and assistance, so that I spake with 
freedom, boldness, and some power. In the evening 


spent some time with a dear Christian friend; and) 


felt serious, as on the brink of eternity. Our inter- 
view was truly a little emblem of heaven itself. I find 
my soul is more refined and weaned from a depen- 
dence on my frames and spiritual feelings. 

Feb. 18.—“Had some enjoyment most of the day, 
and found access to the throne of grace. Blessed be 
the Lord for any intervals of heavenly delight and 
composure, while I am engaged in the field of battle. 
O, that I might be serious, solemn, and always vigi- 
Jant, while in an evil world! Had some opportunity 
alone to-day, and found some freedom in study. 0, I 
long to live to God!” ° 

During the next two weeks it appears that for the 
" most part he enjoyed much spiritual peace and com- 
fort. In his diary for this space of time, are expressed 


. a. . . a, @ 
such things as these; mourning over indwelling sin, 


unprofitableness ; deadness to the world; longing after 
God, and to live to his glory; heart melting desires 
after his eternal home; fixed relianee on God for his 
help; experience of much divine assistance, both in 
the private and public exercises of religion ; inward 
strength and courage in the service of God; very fre- 


quent refreshment, consolation, and divine sweetness 


in meditation, prayer, preaching, and Christian conver- 
sation. And it appears by his account, that this space 
of time was filled up with great diligence and earnest- 
ness in serving God; in study, prayer, meditation, 
preaching, and privately instructing and counseling. 


a ae 


ee 


1743.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 59 


March 7.—“ This: morning when I arose I found — 


my heart go forth after God in longing desires of con- 
formity tohim, and in secret prayer found myself sweet- 
ly quickened and drawn out in praises to God for all 
he had done to and for me, and for all my inward trials 
and distress of late. My heart ascribed glory, ‘glory, 
‘glory to the blessed God! and bid welcome to all in- 
ward distress again, if God: saw meet to exercise me 
with it. Time appeared but an inch long, and eternity 
at hand ; and I thought I could with patience and 
Bheerfulness bear any thing for the cause of God; for 
I saw that a moment would bring me to a world of 
peace and blessedness. My soul, by the strength of 


_ the Lord, rose far above this lower world, and all the 


vain amusements and frightful disappointments of it. 

Lord’s day, March 13. “ At noon, I thought it im- 
possible for me to preach, by reason of bodily weak- 
ness and inward deadness. In the first prayer, I was 


__ so weak that I could scarcely @and ; but in the sermon, 


aS OO 


God strengthened me, so that I eke near an hour and 
a half with sweet eden , clearness, and some tender 
power, from Gen. 5:24. “ And Enoch walked with 
God.” I was sweetly assisted to insist on a close walk: 
‘aith God, and to leave this as my parting advice to 
God’s people here, that they should “ walk with God.” 
May the God of all grace succeed my poor labors in 

= place! : 
h 14. “In the morning was very busy in pre- 


pall for my journey, and was almost continually 
| engaged in ejaculatory prayer. About ten took leave 
| of the dear people: of East-Hampton ; 3 my heart grieved 


ejoiced at the same time; rode near 
ar ‘Brook-Haven, and lodged ‘there, 
and had refreshin ‘conversation with a Christian 


60 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IV 


In two days more he reached New-York ; but com. 
plains of much desertion and deadness on the road. 
He stayed one day in New-York, and on Friday went 
to Mr. Dickinson’s at Elizabeth- Town. 

March. 19. “Was bitterly distressed under a sense 
of my ignorance, darkness, and unworthiness; re 
alone, and poured out my complaint to God eae 
terness of my soul. In the afternoon rode to Newar 
and had some sweetness in conversation and prayer 
with Mr. Burr. O blessed be God for ever and ever, for 
any enlivening and quickening seasons. 

Lord’s day, March 20. “ Preached in the forenoon: 
God gave me some assistance, and enabled me to speak 
with real tenderness, love, and impartiality. In the 
evening preached again; ; and of a truth God was 
pleased to assist a poor worm. Blessed be God, I was 
enabled to speak with life, power, and desire of the edi- 
fication of God’s peoplg; and with some power to sin- 
ners. In the evening 1 was watchful, lest my heart 
should by any means be drawn away from God. O 
when shall I come to that blessed world where every 
power of my soul will be incessantly and eternally 
wound up in heavenly employments and enjoyments, 
to the highest degree! i 

On Monday he went to Woodbridge, New-Jersey, 
where he met the Correspondents, w 0, instead of send- 
ing him to the Indians at the Forks of the Delaware, 
as before intended, directed him to go to a number of 
Indians at Kacusumceee a place in New-York, in the 
woods between Stockbridge. and Albany. This alte- 
ration was occasioned by two things. 1. Information 

_ which the correspondents had received of some con- 
ention between the white people and the Indians on 
the Delaware, concerning their lands; which ey sup- 


3 i 
1743.) ; AT KAUNAUMEEK. $1 


posed would be a hinderance to the success of a mis- 
sionary among them atthattime. 2. Some intimations 
which they had received from Mr. Sergeant, Mission- 
ary to the Indians at Stockbridge, concerning the In- 
dians at Kaunaumeek, and the hopeful prospect of suc- 
which a Missionary might have among them. 
~ On the day following he set out on his journey for 
‘Kaunaumeek, and arrived at Mr. Sergeant’s house in 
Stockbridge March 31. 


%. 
: 


CHAPTER V. 


His labors for nearly a year among the Indians at Kaunaumeek 
— temporal deprivations and sufferings—establishes a school— 
confession offered to the facully of Yale College—days of fast- 
tng—methods of instructing. the Indians—visit to New-Jer~ 
sey and Connecticul—commencement of labor among the In- 
dians at the Forks of the Delaware— Ordination. 


’ 


April 1, 1743.—June 12, 1744. 

| April 1, 1743. \ “I rode to Kaunaumeek, in the wil- 
_ derness, near twenty miles from Stockbridge, and about 
an equal distance from Albany, where the Indians live 
with whom I am concerned ;and lodged with a poor 
Scotchman, about a mile and a haif distant from them, 
on a little heap of straw, in a log room without any 
floor. I was greatly exercised with inward trials, and 
_seemed to have no God to goto. O that God would 
help me: 

_ April’7. “ Appeared to myself exceedingly ignorant, 
weak, helpless, unworthy, and altogether unequal to 
| my work. It seemed to me that I should never do 
| any service,or have any success among the Indians. 

6 Brainerd. 


62 LIFE OF BRAINERD. roa v 
My soul was weary of my life; I longed for death, be 
yond measure. When I thought of any godly soul de 
parted, my soul was ready to envy him his privilege 
thinking, “O when will my turn come! must it be 
years first!” But I know these ardent desires, at this 
and other times, rose partly from the want of resigna: 
tion to God under all miseries; and so were but impa 
tience. Toward night I had the exercise of faith i 
prayer, and some assistance in writing. O that Goc 
would keep me near him! 

Lord's day, April 10. “Rose early in the morning 
and walked out and spent a considerable time in the 
woods, in prayer and meditation. Preached to the In 
dians, both forenoon and afternoon. They behaved 
soberly in general: two or three in particular appeared 
to be under some religious concern; with whom I dis- 
coursed privately; and one told me, “that her hear 
had cried ever since she first heard me preach.” 

April 16.—“ In the afternoon preached to my people; 
but was more discouraged with them than before; 
feared that nothing would ever be done for them te 
any happy effect. I retired and poured out my soul 
to God for mercy; but without any sensible relief, 
Soon after, two ungodly men came, with a design, as 
they said, to hear me preach the next day; but none 
can tell how I felt to hear their profane talk. 0, I 
longed that some dear Christian should know my dis- 
tress. I got into a kind of hovel, and there groaned 
out my complaint to God ; and withal felt more sensi- 
ble gratitude and thankfulness to God, that he had 
made me to differ from these men, as I knew, through 
grace, he had. : 

Lords day, April 17.—“ In the morning was again 
distressed as soon as I awaked, hearing much talk 


i 


| 1743. ] ' AT KAUNAUMEEK. 63 


about the world, and the things of it. I perceived that 
_the men were in some measure afraid of me; and I 
_diseoursed about sanctifying the Sabbath, if possible 
to solemnize their minds; but when they were ata 
little distance, they again talked freely about secular 
affairs. O I thought what a hell it would be to live with 
such men to eternity! The Lord gave me some assist- 
‘ance in preaching, all day, and some resignation, and 
a small degree of comfort in prayer, at night. 

_ April 19.—“ In the morning I enjoyed some sweet 
‘repose and rest in God; felt some strength and confi- 
dence in him ; and my soul was in some measure re- 
freshed and comforted. Spent most of the day in 
writing, and had some exercise of grace, sensible and 
comfortable. My soul seemed lifted above the deep 
|waters, wherein it has long been almost drowned ; felt 
‘some spiritual longings and breathings after God ; and 
found myself engaged for the advancement of Christ’s 
kingdom in my own soul. . 

| April 20.—“ Set apart this day for fasting and 
prayer, to bow my soul before God for the bestowment 
of divine grace ; especially that all my spiritual afflic- 
tions, and inward distresses, might be sanctified to my 
‘soul. And endeavored also to remember the goodness 
of God to me the year past, this day being my birth 
day. Having obtained help of God, I have hitherto 
lived, and am now arrived at the age of twenty-five 
years. My soul was pained to think of my barrenness 
and deadness; that I have lived so little to the glory 
of the eternal God. I spent the day in the woods 
alone, and there poured out my complaint to God. O 
that God would enable me to live to his glory for the 
future! . 

May 10.—“ Was in the same state as to my mind, 


} 
| 
\ 
i 
lf 


* 
64 LIFE OF _ BRAINERD. [Chap. v 


that I have been in fut some time; extremely op 
pressed with a sense of guilt, pollution, and blindness, 
“The iniquity of my heels hath compassed me about: 
the sins of my youth have been set itt 
me; they have gone over my head, a: 
den, too heavy for me to bear.” Almost 
of my life past seem to be covered over with sin and 
guilt ; and those of them that I performed i ins 
conscientious manner, now fill me with 
confusion, that I cannot hold up my face. O, t 
selithngss, hypocrisy, ignorance, bitterness, _ party 
zeal, and the want of. love, candor, meekness, and 
gentleness, that have attended my attempts to bromote 
the inferests of religion; and this, when I have reason 
to hope I had real assistance from rs and some 
sweet intercuurse with heaven! But alas, what cor- 
rupt mixtures attended my best duti BL». 

May 18.—“ My cireumstances are such that I have 
no comfort of any. kind, but what I have in God. I 
live in the most lonesome wilderness ; have but one 
single person to converse with that can speak. Eng- 
lish.* Most-of the talk I hear, is either Highland 
Scotch, or Indian. Thaye no fellow-ehristian to whom 
I may unbosom myself, or lay open my spiritual sor- 
rows; with whom I may take sweet counsel in con- 
versation about heavenly things, and join in social 
prayer. I live pogrly with regard to the comforts of 

‘ ah 

* This person was BraiverRp’s interpreter, an ingenious 
young Indian, belonging to Stockbridge, whose name was John 
Wauwawmpequunnaunt. He had been instructed in the Chris- 
tian religion by Mr. Sergeant ; had lived with the Rey. Mr. 
Williams, of Tens-Meadow; : had been further instructed by. 
him, at the charge of Mr. Hollis, of London; and understood 
both English and Indian very well, and wrote a good hand. 


aa 
43. ] ; AT KAUNAUMEEK. 65 


life: mostof my diet consists of boiled corn, hasty- 

| pudding, &¢. I lodge on a bundle of straw, my labor 
is hard and extremely difficult, and I have little ap- 
| pearance of ‘Success to Comiorig me.. The Indians have 
live on but what the Dutch people lay claim 
ase threaten to drive them off. They have 
mre ‘to the souls of the poor Indians ; and by 


at I can learn, they hate me because re come to 

eat them. But that which makes all my diffi- 
culti grievous to be boris is, that God hides his face 
| from me 
| May 20. —* Was much perplexed some part of the 
| day; but toward night had some comfortable medi- 
tations on Isa. 40: 1. “ Comfort ye, comfort ye my 
| people, saith your God,” and enjoyed some sweetness 
'in prayer. Afterward my soul rose so far above the 
deep waters, that I dared to rejoice in God. I saw that 
| there was suligies matter of consolation in the blessed 
God.” 
| On Monday, oe 30, he set out on a is o's to 
New-Jersey to consult the commissioners, and obtain 
orders from them to set up a school among the Indians 
at Kaunaumeek, and that his interpreter might be 
appointed the schoolmaster; which was_according- 
ly done. He proceeded fiom New-Jersey to New- 
‘Haven, where he arrived on Monday, June 6; at- 
tempted a reconciliation with the faculty of the col- 
lege ; and spent this week in visiting his friends in 
‘those parts, and in his journey homeward, till Satur- 
iday, in a pretty comfortable frame of mind, On Satur- 
‘day, in his way from Stockbridge to Kaunaumeek, he 
was lost in the woods, and lay all night in the open air ; 
but happily found his way i in the morning, and came 
to his Hones on Lord’s day, June 12, and had greater 

6* 


i 
i 
| 
} 


> ' = 
66 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. Vv 


assistance in preaching among them than ever before, 
since his first coming among them. 

From this time forward he was the subject of various 
frames and exercises of mind, in the general much 
after the same manner as hitherto from om com- 
ing to Kaunaumeek, till he got into his own house, (a 
little hut, which he made chiefly with his own ‘Hands, 
by long and hard labor.) He found that the distance 
of the family with whom he at first lodged, debarred 
him from many favorable opportunities of access to 
the Indians, especially morning and evening; and after 
about three months, removed and lived with the In- 
dians in one of their wigwams. Here-he continued for 
about one month, when he completed the small house 
of which he now speaks. 

Although he was much dejected during most of this 
period, yet he had many intermissions of his melan- 
choly, and some seasons of comfort, sweet tranquillity 
and resignation of mind, and frequently special assist- 
ance in ublic services, as appears in his diary. The 
manner of his relief from his sorrow, once in particu- 
lar, is worthy to be mentioned in his own words. 

July 25.—“ Had little or no resolution for a life of 
holiness; was ready almost to renounce my hope of 
living to God. And O now dark it looked, to think of 
being unholy for ever! This I could not endure. The 
cry of my soul was, Psalm 65: 3. “Iniquities prevail 
against me.” But I was in some measure relieved by 
a comfortable meditation on God’s eternity, that he 
never had a beginning. Whence I was led to admire 
his greatness and power, in such amanner, that I stood 
still, and praised the Lord for his own glories and per- 
fections : though I was (and if I should for ever be} 
an unholy creature, my soul was comforted to appre- 
hend an eternal, infinite, powerful, holy God.” _— 


% 


_ 1743.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 67 


~ July 30.—*Just at night, moved into my own house, 

ged there that night; found it much better 

~e the time alone than in the wigwam where I 

was before. 

day, July 31.—“ Felt more comfortably than 

some days past. Blessed be’ the Lord, who has now 

2iv eaplaceofretirement. O that I may find God 
m it, and that he would dwell with me for ever! 

Aug. 1.—*Was still busy in further labors on my 
rouse. Felt a little sweetness of religion, and thought 
hat it was worth while to follow after Ged through a 
housand snares, deserts, and death itself. O that I 
might always follow after holiness, that I may be fully 
conformed to God! Had some degree of sweetness in 
secret prayer, though I had much sorrow. 

Aug. 3.—“ Spent most of the day in writing. » En- 
joyed some sense of religion. Through divine good- 
ness I am now urinterruptedly alone, and find my 
retirement comfortable. I have enjoyed more sense of 

divine things within a few days last past than for some 
time before. I longed after holiness, humidity, and 
meekness: O that God would enable me to ‘pass the 
time of my sojourning here in his fear, and always 
live to him! 

Aug. 4.—“Was enabled to pray much through the 
whole day; and through divine goodness found some 
intenseness of soul in the duty, as I used to do, and 
some ability to persevere in my supplications. I had 
somne apprehensions of divine things, Which afforded 

me courage and resolution. It is good, I find, to per- 
severe in attempls to pray, if I cannot pray with perse- 
_ verance, i. e. continue long in my addresses to the 
Divine Being. Ihave generally found that the more I 
_ do in secret prayer, the more I have delighted todo, 


: 


T 
- - 


68 LIFE OF BRAINERD. . [Chap v 


and the more I have enjoyed a spirit of prayer; and 
frequently I have found the contrary, when by jour- 
neying or otherwise I have been much deprived of re- 

_ tirement. A seasonable, steady performance of SECRET 
DUTIES IN THEIR PROPER HOURS, and a CAREFUL IMPROVE- 
MENT OF ALL TimB, fillirig up every hour with some 
profitable labor, either of heart, head, or hands, are ex- 
cellent means of spiritual peace and boldness before 
God. Filling up our time with and Jor God, is the way 
to rise up and lie down in peace, 

Aug. 13.—“ Was enabled in secret prayer to raise 
my soul to God, with desire and delight. It was indeed 
a blessed season. I found the comfort of being a 
Christian ; and “ counted the sufferings of the present 
life not worthy to be compared with the glory ” of divine 
enjoyments even in this world. All my past sorrows 
seemed kindly to: disappear, and I “ remembered no 
more the sorrow, for joy.” O, how kindly, and with 
what a filial tenderness, the soul confides in “ the Rock 
of Ages,” at such a season, that he will “ never leave it 
nor forsake it,” that he will cause “all things ‘to work 
together for its good!” I longed that others should 
know how good a God the Lord is. My soul was full 
of tenderness and love, even to the most inveterate of 
my enemies. I longed that they should share in the 
same mercy; and loved that God should so do just as 
he pleased with me and every thing else. I felt pecu- 

_ larly serious, calm, and peaceful, and encouragement 
_ to press after holiness as long as I live, whatever diffi- 
culties and trials may be in my way. May the Lord 
always help me so to do! Amen, and Amen, ; 

Aug. 15.—“Spent most of the day in labor, to pro- 
cur> something to keep my horse on in the winter. 
Had not much spiritual enjoyment in the morning ; 


s (. 
1743.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 69 


_was very weak in body through the day, and thought 
that this frail body would soon drop into the dust; and 
had some very realizing apprehensions of a speedy 
entrance into another world. In this weak state of 
body, I was not a little distressed for want of suitable 
food. I had no bread,nor could I get any. Iam forced 
_to go or send ten or fifteen miles for all the bread leat; 
| and sometimes it is mouldy and sour before I eat it, if 
I get any considerable quantity. And then again 1 
have none for some days together, for want of an op- 
_ portunity tosend for it, and cannot find my horse in the 
| woods to go myself; aad this was my case now; but 
| through divine goodness I had some Indian Whee, of 
| which I made cakes, and fried them. Yet I felt con- 
| tented with my circumstances, and sweetly resigned to 
| God. In prayer I enjoyed great freedom ; and blessed 
| God as much for my present circumstances as if I had 
| been a king; and thought that I found a disposition to 
| be contented in any circumstances. Blessed be God.” 
In his diary for Saturday, he says he was somewhat 
melancholy and sorrowful in mind; and adds, “TI 
never feel comfortably, but when I find my soul going 
forth after God. If Icannot be holy, I must necessa- 
| rily be miserable for ever. 
Lord's day, Aug. 21.—“Was much straitened in the 
| forenoon exercise; my thoughts seemed to be all scat- 
_ tered to the ends of the earth. At noon, I fell down be- 
fore the Lord, groaned under my vileness, barrenness, 
| and deadness ; and felt as if I was guilty of soul mur- 
| der, in speaking to immortal souls in such a manner as 
I had then done. In the afternoon God was pleased 
| to give me some assistance, and I was enabled to set 
| before my hearers the nature and necessity of true re- 
| pentance. Afterward had some small degree of thank- 


| 


i 


eS 


. a 
70 LIFE OF BRAINERD. - LChap. ¥, 


fulness. Was very ill and full of pain in the evening, 
and my soul mourned that I had spent so much time 
to so little profit. 

Aug. 23.—“Studied in the forenoon, and enjoyed 
some freedom. In the afternoon labored abroad: en- 
deavored to pray, but found not much enjoyment or 
intenseness of mind. Toward night was very weary, 
and tired of this world of sorrow: the thoughts of 
death and immortality appeared very desirable, and 
even refreshed my soul. Those lines turned in my 
mind with pleasure, 


“ Come death, shake hands; Vil kiss: thy bands; 4 
“?'Tis happiness for me to die.— 
“ What !—dost thou think that I will shrink? 

“Tl go to immortality.” 


“Tn evening prayer, God was pleased to draw near my 
soul, though very sinful and unworthy ; so that I was 
enabled to wrestle with God, and to pengaiae in my 
requests for grace. I poured out my soul for all the 
world, friends and enemies. My soul was concerned, 
not so much for souls as such, but rather for Christ’s 
kingdom, that it might appear in the world, that God 
might be known to be God, in the whole earth. And 
O my soul abhorred the very thought of a party in re: 
ligicn! Let the truth of God appear, wherever it is; 
and God have glory for ever. Amen. This was indeed 
a comfortable season. I thought I had some foretasie 
of the enjoyments and employments of the upper 
world. O that my soul was more attempered to it! 
Aug. 31.—[On a journey to New-York.] “Was in 
a sweet, serious, and I hope, Christian frame. Eternal 
things erigraised all my thoughts; and I longed to be 
in the world of spirits. O how happy is it to have 


Sams R AT KAUNAUMEEK. 71 


all thoughts swallowed up in that world: to feel 
one’s self a stranger in this world, diligently seeking 
a road through it, the best, the sure road to the hea- 
venly Jerusalem !” 

He went forward on his journey, and after tarrying 


_ two or three days at New-Y ork, set out from that city 


toward New-Haven, intending to be there at the com- 
mencement. 

Lord’s day, Sept. 11.—“ [At Horse-Neck.] In the 
afternoon I preached from Titus,3:8. I think God 


_ never helped me more in painting true religion, and 


in detecting clearly, and tenderly discountenancing 

false appearances of religion, wild fire, party zeal, spi- 
ritual pride, &c.as well as a confident dogmatical spirit, 
and its spring, viz. ignorance of the heart, In the even- 
ing took much pains in private conversation to sup- 
press some confusions which I perceived were among 
that people. 

Sept. 13,—“ Rode to New-Haven. Was sometimes 
dejected ; not in the sweetest frame. Lodged at ****, . 
Had some profitable Christian conversation. I find, 
though my inward trials were great, and.a life of sole 
tude gives them greater advantage to settle, and pene- 
trate to the very inmost recesses of the soul; yet it is 
better to be alone than incumbered with noise and tu- 


mult. I find it very difficult maintaining any sense oi 


divine things while removing from place to place. di- 


_ verted with new objetts, and filled with care and busi- 


ness. A settled steady business is best adapted to a life 


| of strict religion. 


Sept. 14.—“ This day I ought to have taken my ce- 


_ gree ; but God sees fit to deny it me. And though I 


was greatly afraid of being overwhelmed with per-’ 
plexity and confusion, when I should: see my class- 


, 


72 LIFE OF BRAINERD, “ Lh 


mates take theirs; yet, at the Soy time, Go bled 
me with calmness and resignation to sy, nl « 

the Lord be done.” Indeed, through divine goodne 
I have scarcely felt my mind so calm, sedate, and com- 
fortable for some time. I have long far, this season, 
‘ahd expected my humility, meekness, patience and re- 
signation would be much tried ; but found much mel 
pleasure and divine comfort than I expected. Felt 
- Spiritually serious, tender and affectionate in private 
prayer with a dear Christian friend to-day. : 

Sept. 15.—“ Had some satisfaction in hearing the 
ministers discourse. It is always a comfort to me to 
hear religious and Spiritual conversation. O that mi- 
nisters and people were more spiritual and devoted te 
God! Toward night, with the advice of Chris‘ian 
friends, I offered the following reflections in writing, 
to the rector and trustees of the college—which are for 
substance the same that I had freely offered to the 
rector before, and intreated him to accept—ihat if pos- 
sible I might cut off all occasion of offence from those 
who seek occasion. What I offered, is as follows: 

‘« «Whereas I have said before several persons, concern- 
ing Mr. Whittelsey, one of the tutors of Yale College, that I 
did not believe he had any more grace than the chair I then 
leaned upon; I humbly confess, that herein 1 have sinned 
_ against God, and acted contrary to the rules of his word, and 
have injured Mr. Whittelsev. I had no right to. make thus 
free with his character; and had no just reason to say as I did 
concerning him. My fault herein was the more aggravated, 
in that I sand this concerning one who was so much my supe- 
rior, and one whom I was obliged to treat with special respect 
aud honor, by reason of the relation I stood in to him in the 


college. Such a manner of behavior I confess ay be- 


come a Christian; it was taking too much upon i ,and did 5 
not savor of that humble respect which I ought to have ex- 


1743.) “ AT NEW-HAVEN. | 73 


} vince a te Mr. Whittelsey. I have long since been con- 
vince ‘the falseness of those apprehensions, by which I 
| ig ae ied such a conduct. I have often reflected on this 
act with grief; I hope, on account of the sin of it: and am 
willing to lie low, and be abased before God and man for it. 
'IThumbly ask the forgiveness of the governors of the college 
and of the whole society ; but of Mr. Whittelsey in particular. 
And whereas I have been accused by one person of saying 
| concerning the reverend rector of Yale College, that I won- 
| dered he did net expect ‘to drop down dead for fining the 
scholars that followed Mr. Tennent to Milford; I seriously 
profess that I do not remember my saying any thing to this 
| purpose: but if I did, which I am not certain I did not, I 
utterly condemn it, and detest ail such kind of behavior; and 
especially in an under-graduate toward the rector. AndI 
now appear to judge and condemn myself for going once to 
the separate meeting m New-Haven, a little before I was ex- 
| pelled, though the rector had refused to give me leave. For 
this I humbly ask the rector’s forgiveness. And whether the 
governors of thé ‘college shall ever see cause to remove the 
_academical censure I lie under, or no, or to admit me to the 
privileges { desire; yet I am willing to appear, if they think 
fit, openly to own, and to humble myself for those things I 
| have herein confessed.’ ” 
| “God has made me willing to do any thing that I 
/ean do consistently with truth, for the sake of peace, 
| and that I might not be a stumbling: block to others. 
| For this reason I can cheerfully forego ,and give up 
, what I verily believe, after the most mature and im- 
| partial search, is my right, in some instances. God 
“has given me the disposition, that, if ‘a-man has done 
me a hundred. injuries, and I (thongh ever sO much 
_ provoked to it) have done him only one, I feel disposed, 
' and heartily willing humbly to confess my fault to him, 
| and on my knees to ask forgiveness of him; though at 


| the same time he should justify himself in all the in- 
| 7 Brainerd. 


———— 


74 "LIFE OF BRAINERD. { 


juries he has done me, and should only make use 
my humble confession to blacken my c ete 
more, and represent me as the only person guilty ; 
though he should as it were insult me, and say, “he 
knew all this before, and that I was making work fe 
repentance.” Though what I said concerning Mr. 
Whittelsey was only spoken in private, to a friend or 
two; and being partly overheard, was related to the 
rector, and by.him extorted from my friends; yet, see-— 
ing it was divulged and made public, I was willing to_ 
confess my fault therein publicly. But I trust God - 
will plead my cause.” : 
- I was witness to the very Christian spirit which — 
Brainerd showed at that time; being then at New 
Haven, and one whom he thought fit to consult on 
that occasion. This was my first opportunity of a per-_ 
sonal acquaintance with him.: There truly appeared © 
in him a great degree of calmness and humility, with- 
out the least appearance of rising of spirit for any ill 
treatment which he supposed he had suffered, or the 
least backwardness to abase himself before them who, 
as he thought, had wronged him. What he did was 
without any objection or appearance of reluctance. 
even in private to his friends, te whom he freely open- — 
ed himself. Earnest application was made on his be- 
half to the authority of the college, that he might have . 
his degree then given him; and particularly by the 
Rev. Mr. Burr of Newark, one of the correspondents 
of the society in Scotland ; he being sent from New- 
Jersey to New-Haven, by the rest of the commissioners, - 
for that end ; and many arguments were used, but with- 
out success. Indeed, the governors of the college were _ 
so far ‘Satisfied with the refiections which Brainerd 
had’ V himself, that they appeared willing to 


? Ld 
| 1743.) AT BETHLEHEM. 75 
| 


mit him again into college ; but not to give him his 
degree, till he should have remained there at least 
twelve months, which being contrary to what the cor- 
respondents, to whom he was now engaged, had de- 
}| clared to be their mind, he did not consent toit. He 
desired his degree, as he thought it would tend to his 
‘being more extensively useful ; but still when he was 
_ denied it, he manifested no disappointment or resent- 
| ment. 
‘Sept. 20.—“ [At Bethlehem.] Had thoughts of go- 
ing forward on my journey to my Indians; but toward 
| night was taken with a hard pain in my teeth, and 
shivermg cold; and could not possibly recover a com- 
fortable degree of warmth the whole night following. 
Tcontinued very full of pain all night; and in the morn- 
ing had a very hard fever, and pains almost over my 
whole body. I had a sense of the divine goodness in 
| appointing this to be the place of my sickness, among 
| my friends, who were very kind tome. I should proba- 
| bly have perished if I had first got home to my own 
. house in the wilderness, where I have none to converse 
| with but the poor, rude, ignorant Indians. Here, I 
saw, was mercy in the midst of affliction. I continued 
thus. mostly confined to my bed, till Friday night; 
very full of pain most of the time; but, through divine 
goodness, not afraid of death. Then I saw the extreme 
folly of those who put off their turning to God tilla 
sick bed. Surely this is not a time proper to prepare 
for eternity. On Friday evening my pains went off 
somewhat suddeniy. I was exceedingly weak, and al- 
most fainted; but was very comfortable the night fol- 
| lowing. I thought we were to prize the continua- 
tion of life, only on this account, that we may “show 
forth God’s goodness and works of grace.> 


we =~ LIFE OF BRAINERD L 


et 4. his day rode home to my ‘own house 
€ poor Indians appeared very glad of 


return. Found my house and all things in safety: 
presently fell on my knees, and blessed God for 
safe return. I have taken many considerable j 
since this time last year, and yet God has never 
one of my bones to be broken, or any distressing 
lamity to befal me, excepting the ill turn I had m 
last jouvtey. I have been often exposed to cold 
hanger in the wilderness, where the comforts of life 
were not to be had; have frequently been lost in the 
woods ; and sometimes obliged to Tide much ‘of thal 
night ; ‘and once lay out in the woods all night; yet 
blessed be God, he has preserved me! 

Nor. 3.—“ Spent this day im secret fasting and 
prayer, from morning till night. Early in the i 
i had some small degree of assistance in prayer. Af 
terward read the story of Elijah the prophet, 1 ‘ 
17th, 18th, and 19th chapters; sad skee 2 ing, of 
and 4th chapters. My soul was much moved, 
img the faith, zeal, and power of that holy man 
how he wrestled with God in prayer, &e. My x 
then cried with Elisha, “Where is the Lord God 
Elijah OI longed formore faith! My soul 
after God, and pleaded with him, thata £ double por 
tion of that spirit” which was given to Elijah, 
“reston me.” And that which was divinely 


is the same that he was in the days of Elijah. Wi 
enabled 10 wresile with Ged by prayer, in a more 
fettionate, fervent, humble, intense, and i 
manner, than I have for many months past: Nothing 
seemed too hard for God to perform; nothing toc 
great forge to hope for from him. I had for many 


i 


. 
. 


1743.) AT KAUNADY£EK. TI 


i _ months entirely lost all hové of being made instru- 
mental of doing any spet ‘ial service for God in the 
world ; it has appeared entirely impossible, that one so 
» vile should be thus employed for God. But at this 
_. time God was pleased to revive.this hope. . Afterward 
read from the 3d sapien of Exodus to the 20th, 
and saw more of the glory and majesty of. God 
discovered in those chapters than ever I had seen be- 
fore; frequently in the mean time falling on my knees 
and crying to God for the faith of Moses, and for a 
manifestation of the divine glory. Especially the 
3d, 4th, and part of the 14thand 15th chapters were un- 
speakably sweet to my sou!: my soul blessed God that 
he had_shown himself so gracious to his servants of 
old.. The 15th chapter seemed to be the very language 
which my soul uttered to God in the season of my first 
. spiritual comfort, when I had just got through the Red 
Sea, by a way that I had no expectation of. O how 
my soul then rejoiced in God! And now those things 
eame fresh and lively to my mind; now my ,soul 
blessed God afresh that he had opened that unthought 
of way to deliver me from the fear of the Egyp- 
tians, when I almost despaired of life. Afterward 
read the story of Abraham’s pilgrimage in the land of © 
Canaan. My soul] was melted, in observing his faith, 
how he leaned on God; how he communed with God; 
and what a stranger he was here in the world. After 
that, read the story of Joseph’s sufferings, and God’s 
goodness to him: blessed God for these examples of 
faith and patience. My soul was ardent in prayer, 
was enabled to wrestle ardently for myself, for Chr's- 
tian friends, and for the church of God; and felt move . 
desire to see the power of God in the conversion 0, 
souls, than I have done for along season. Blessedbe 
a Lis 


| 
* 
PM. 


73 s LIFE OF BRAINERD. é ie 


God for this season of fusting and prayer !—May his” 
goodness always abide with me, and draw my soul 
to him! 

Nov. 10.—“ Spent this day in fasting and prayer 
alone. In the morning was very dull and lifel 
melancholy and discouraged. But after some ti 
while reading 2 Kings, 19, my soul was moved and 
affected ; especially reading verse 14, and onward. I 
saw there was no other way for the afflicted children 
of God to take, but to go to God with all their sorrows. 
Hezekiah, in his great distress, went and spread his 
complaint before the Lord. I was then enabled to see 
the mighty power of God, and my extreme need of 
that power; and to cry to him affectionately and ar- 
dently for his power and grace to be exercised toward 
me. Afterward, read the story of David’s triais, and 
observed the course he took under them, how he.. 
strengthened his hands in God; whereby my soul was 
carried out after God, enabled to cry to him, and rely 
upon him, and felt strongin the Lord. Was afterward 
refreshed, observing the blessed temper that was 
wrought in David by his trials: all bitterness, and de- 
sire of revenge, seemed wholly taken away ; so that 
he mourned for the death of his enemies. 2 Sam. 1: 
17, and 4: 9-12. Was enabled to bless God that he 
had given me something of this divine temper, that my 
soul freely forgives, and heartily loves my enemies. 

. 29.—“ Began to study the Indian tongue, with 
Mr. Sergeant, at Stockbridge.* Was perplexed for want 


; 


* *The commissioners who employed him, had directed him to 

spend much time this winter With Mr. Sergeant, to learn the 

language of the Indians; which necessitated him very often to . 

ride backward and forward, twenty miles through the unin- 
* : 


* 
1744} AT KADNAUMEEE. 79 


of more retirement. I love to live aione in my 
| own little cottage, where I can spend much time 
in prayer, &c. 
. Dec. 22.—“ Spent this day alone in fasting and 
: yer, and reading in God’s word the exercises and 
jverances of his children. Had, I trust, some ex- 
ercise of faith, and realizing apprehension of divine 
power, grace, and holiness; and also of the unchange2- 
bleness of God, that he is the same as when he deli- 
vered his saints of old out of great tribulation. My 
| soul was sundry times in prayer enlarged for God’s 
clarch ard people. O that Zion might become the 
*joy of the whole earth!” It is better to wait upon 
God with patience, than to put confidence in any thing 
in this lower world. “My soul, wait thou on the Lord ;” 
for “from him comes thy salvation.” , 
Lord's day, Jan. 1, 1744.—“ In the morning had 
some small degree of assistance in prayer. Saw myself 
=|, so vile and unworthy that I could not look my people 
in the face when I came to preach. O my meanness, 
folly, ignorance, and inward pollution !—in the evening 
had a little assistance in prayer, so that the duty was 
delightful, rather than burdensome. Reflected on the 
goodness of God to me in the past year, &c. Ofa 
| truth God has been kind and gracious to me, though 
he has caused me to pass through many sorrows; he 
has provided for me bountifully, so that I have been 
enabled, in about fifteen months past, to bestow to 
charitable uses about an hundred pounds New-England 
money, that I can now remember. Blessed be the Lord 


SS OO OU es 


= 


babited woods between Stockbridge and Kaunaumeek; which 
many times exposed him to extreme hardship in the severe 
seasons of the winter. . ie 

2 


80 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. V. 


that has so far used me as his steward, to distribute a 
portion of his goods. May I always remember, that 
all Ihave comes from God. Blessed be the Lord, that 
has carried me through all the toils, fatigues and hard- 
ships of the year past, as well as the spiritual sorrow 
and conflicts that have attended it. O that I cou 
begin this year with God, and spend the whole gf it to ] 
his glory, either in life or death! | 

Jan. 3.—“ Was employed much of the day in writ- 
ing ; and spent some time in other necessary employ- 
ment. But my time passes away so swiftly, that lam 
astonished when I reflect on it, and see how little I do. 
My state ef solitude does not make the hours hang 
“heavy upon my hands. © what reason of thankful- 
ness have I on account of this retirement! I find that 
Ido not, and it seems I cannot, lead a Christian life 
when I am abroad, and cannot spend ‘time in devotion, 
Christian conversation, and serious meditation, as I 
should do... Those weeks that Iam obliged now to be | 
from home, in order to learn Indian tongue, are 
mostly spent in perplexity and barrenness, without 
much sweet relish of divine things; and I feel myself _ 
a stranger at the throne of | grace for want of more fre- 
quent and continued retirement. When I return home 
and give myself to meditation, prayer, and fasting, a ; 
new scene opens to my mind, and my soul longs for 
mortification, self-denial, humility, and divorcement 
from ail thingsof the world. Thisevening my heart was 
somewhat warm and fervent in prayer and meditation, 
so that I was loth to indulge sleep. Consinnedain 
those duties till about midnight. 
_ Jan. 6.—“ Feeling my extreme weakness, and want of 
grace, the pollution of my soul, and danger of tempta- | 
tions on every side, I set apart ‘He day for fasting and 

© 


% 
- 


1744.3 AT KAUNAUMEEK. 8i 


. prayer, neither eating nor drinking from evening to 
| evening, beseeching God to have mercy on me. My 
_ soul intensely longed that the dreadful spots and stains 

of sin might be washed away from it. Saw something 
oe the power and all-sufficiency of God. My soul 

_ seemed to rest on his power and grace; longed for re- 

} signation to his will,and mortification to all things 
here below. My mind was greatly fixed on divine 
things: my resolutions for a life of mortification, con- 
_ tinual watchfulness, self-denial, seriousness and devo- 
| tlon, were strong apd fixed; my desires ardent and in- 
_ tense; my conscience tender, and afraid of every ap- 
| pearance of evil.. My soul grieved with reflection on 
| past levity, and want of resolution for God. I solemn- 
ly renewed my dedication of myself to God, and 
| longed for grace to enable me always to keep covenant 
_ with him. Time appeared very short, eternity near, 
_ and a great name, either in or after life, together with 
| all earthly pleasures and profits, but an empty bubble, 
| adeluding dream. © “Sa : 
Jan. 7. “Spent this day in seriousness, with stead- 
fast resolutions for God, and a life of mortification. 
Studied closely, till I felt my bodily strength fail. Felt 
some degree of resignation to God, with an acquies- 
cence in his dispensations. Was grieved that I could 
do so little for God before my bodily strength failed. 
| In the evening, though tired, was enabled to continue 
| instantin prayer forsometime. Spent the time in read- 
_ ing, meditation, and prayer, till the evening was far 
| spent: was grieved to think that I could not watch un- 
_ to prayer the whole night. But blessed be God, hea- 
' yen is a place of continual and incessant devotion, 
| though the earth is dull. at 
Jan. 14. “This morning, enjoyed a most solemn 
i 


82 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chapt ¥, 


season in prayer: my’soul seemed enlarged and assist. 
ed to pour out itself to God for grace, and for every 
blessing I wanted for myself, for dear christian friends, 
and for the church of God; and was so enabled’ 
“see Him who is invisible,” that my soul rested u 
him for the performance of every thing I asked agreea- 
ble tohis will. It was then my happiness to ‘continue | 
instant in prayer,’ and I was enabled to continue in it 
for near an hour. - My soul was then “ strong in the 
Lord, and in the power of his might.” Longed exceed- 
ingly for an angelic holiness and purity, and to have 
all my thoughts, at all times, employed in divine and 
heavenly things. Felt the same divine assistance in 
prayer sundry times in the day. My soul confided in 
God for myself, and for his Zion: trusted in divine 
power and grace, that he would do glorious things in 
his church on earth, for his own glory. 

Feb.3. “Enjoyed more freedom and comfort than 
of late; was engaged in meditation upon the different 
whispers of the various powers and affections of a 
pious, mind, exercised with a great variety of dispen- 
sations; and could not but write, as well as meditate, | 
on so entertaining a subject. Ihope the Lord gave me } 
some true sense of divine things this day ; but alas, _ 
how great and pressing are the remains of indwelling - 
corruption! I am now more sensible than eyer, that 
God alone is “the author and finisher of our faith,” 7.¢e 
that the whole and every part of sanctification, and 
every good word, work, or thought, found in me, is the - 
effect of his power and grace; that “without him I can | 
do nothing,” in the strictest sense, and that, “‘he works 
in us to will and to do of his own good pleasure,.” and 
from no other motive. O how amazing it is that peo- | 
ple can talk so much about men’s power and goodness; 


. 


‘| a 
| 1744.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 83 


_when if God did not hold us back every moment, we 
- should be devils incarnate! This my bitter experience, 
for several days last past, has abundantly taught me 
*eoncerning myself. 

‘Feb.7., “My soul felt and tasted that the Lord is 
ious, that he is the supreme good, the only soul- 
‘satisfying happiness; that he is a complete, sufficient, 
‘and almighty portion. The language of my heart was, 
« Whom have Iin heaven but thee? and there is none 
‘upon earth that I desire beside thee.” O, I feel that 
jit is heaven to please him, and to be just what he would 
|| have me to be! O that my soul were “holy, as he is 
holy!” O that it were “ pure, even as Christ is pure ;” 
‘and ‘perfect, as my Father in heaven is perfect!” 
1 These I feel are the sweetest commands in God’s book, 
| comprising all others. And shall I break them! must 
I break them! am I under the necessity of it as long 
; | as Ilive in the world! O my soul, wo, wo is me, that i 
hee a sinner, who continually grieve and offend this 
| | blessed God, infinite in goodness and grace! O methinks 
) | if he would Buriat me for my sins, it would not wound 
) |my heart so deep to offend him; but though I sin con- 
| tinually, yet he continually repeats his kindness to me! 
|O methinks I could bear any sufferings; but how can 
| T bear to grieve and dishonor this blessed God! How 
shall I yield ten thousand times more honor to him 2 
, What shall I do to glorify and worship this best of be- 
lings? O that I could consecrate myself, soul and body, 
to his service for ever! O that I could give up myself 
| to him, so as never more to attempt to be my own, or 
‘to have any will or affections that are not perfectly con- 
|formed to him! But, alas! I find I cannot be thus en- 
tirely devoted to God; I cannot live, and not sin. O 
| ye angels, do ye glorify him meessantly ; and if possi- 
! 4 


—_ a a 


Ss = i = ee 


-» mankind. I longed that those who, I have reason to_ 


84 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ~ (Chape¥ 


ble, prostrate yourselves lower before the,blessed King | 
of heaven! I long to bear a part with you; and, if it 
were possible, to help you. O when we have done all 
that we can, to all eternity, we shall not be able to offer 
the ten thousandth part of the: homage which the a 
rious God deserves! 

March 3. “In the morning, spent (I ballene). 1 
hour in prayer, with great intenseness and fee om, 
and with the most soft and tender affection toward all 


~ think, owe me ill will, might be eternally happy. It 
seemed refreshing to think of meeting them in heaven, 
how much soever they had injured me on earth: had 
no disposition to insist upon any confession {om them, 
in order to reconciliation, and the exercise of love and 
kindness to them. it is an emblem of heaven itself, 
to love all the world with a love of kindness, forgive- 
ness, and benevolence; to feel our souls sedate, mild, 
‘and meck; to be void of all evil surmisings and sus- 
picions, and scarce able to think evil of any man upon 
any occasion ; to find our hearts simple, open, and free, 
10 those that look upon us with a different eye!— 
Prayer was so sweet an exercise to me, that I hucall 
not how to cease, lest I should lose the spirit of prayer. 
Felt no disposition to eat or drink, for the sake of the 
pleasure of it, but only to support my nature, and fit 
me for divine service. Could not be content without 
a very particular mention of a great number of dear 
friends at the throne of grace; as also the particular 
circumstances of many, as far as they were known. 
March 10. “In the morning, felt exceeding dead to 
the world, and all its enjoyments. I thought I was 
ready and willing to give up life and all its comforts, , 
as soon as called to it; and yet then had as much com- 


wall 


1744. | | AT KAUNAUMEEK. 85 


fort of life as*almost ever I had. I longed to be per- 
' petually 2nd entirely crucified to all things here below, 
_ by the cross of Christ. My soul was sweetly resigned 
‘God’s disposal of me, in every regard; and I saw 
at nothing had happened but what was best for me, 
id nfided in God, that he would never leave me, 
ie ough I should “walk through the valley of the sha- 
_ dow of death.” It was then my meat and drink to be 
holy, to live to the Lord, and die to the Lord. And I 
thought that I then enjoyed such a heaven as far ex- 
_ ceeded the most sublime conceptions of an unregene- 
rate soul; and even unspeakably beyond what I my- 
self could conceive of at another time. I did not won- 
der that Peter said, “ Lord, it is good to be here,” when 
| thus refreshed with divine glories. My soul was full 
, of love and tenderness in the duty of intercession; 
| especially felt a most sweet affection to some precious 
| godly ministers, of my acquaintance. Prayed earnest- 
ly for dear Christians, and for those I have reason to 
fear are my enemies; and could not have spoken, a 
word of bitterness, or entertained a bitter thought, 
against the vilest man living. Hada sense of my own 
| great unworthiness. My soul seemed to breathe forth 
_ love and praise to God afresh, when I thought he would 
‘let his children love and receive me as one of their 
_ brethren and fellow citizens. When I thought of their 
treating me in that manner, I longed to lie at their feet; 
and could think of no way to express the sincerity and 
simplicity of my love and esteem of them, as being 
‘much better than myself. 
 Lord’s day, March 11. “My soul was in some mea- 
sure strengthened in God, in morning devotion ; so that 
| | was released from trembling fear and distress. Preach- 
ed to my people from the parable of the sower,, Matt. 
| Brainerd. 


oF 
86 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. Vv. 


18, and enjoyed some assistance both parts of the day; 
had some freedom, affection, and fervency in address- 
ing my poor people; longed that God should take hold 
of their hearts, and make them spiritually alive. And 
indeed I had so much to say t6 them, that I knew not, 
how to leave off speaking.” A Sf 
This was the last Sabbath in which hereyerper-_ 
formed public service at Kaunaumeek, and these the 


_ last sermons which he ever preached to the Indians” 


there. ‘The methods he adopted for their salvation, he 


thus describes in a letter to Rev. Mr. Pemberton of 


New-York. 

“In my labors with them, in order to “turn them 
from darkness to light,” I studied what was most plain 
and easy, and best suited to their capacities ; and en- 
deavored to set before them from time to time, as they 
were able to receive them, the most important and ne- 
cessary truths of Christianity ; such as most imme- 
diately concerned their speedy conversion to God, and 
such as I judged had the greatest tendency, as means, 
to effect that glorious change in them. But especially 
I made it the scope and drift of all my labors, to lead 
them into a thorough acquaintance with these two 
things: (1.) The sinfulness and misery of the estate 
they were naturally in; the evil of their hearts, the 
pollution of their natures; the heavy guilt they were 
under, and their exposedness to everlasting punish- . 
ment ; as also their utter inability to save themselves, 
either from their sins, or from those miseries which : 
are the just punishment of them; and their unwortki- 
ness of any mercy at, the hand of God, on aceount of 
any thing they themselves could do to procure his” 
favor, and consequently their extreme need of Christ 
to save them. And. (2.) I frequently endeavored to 


| ile 


— 


i744. ] AT KAUNAUMEEK: 87 


open tothem the fullness, all-sufficiency, and freebies 
of that redemption which the Son of God has wrought 
out by his obedience and sufferings, for perishing sin- 
ners: how this provision he had made was suited to 


; all their wants ; and how he called and invited them to 
accept of everlasti ng life freely, notwithstanding all 


| 
| 
| 


their sinfulness. 

“ After I had been with the Indians several months, 
I composed sundry forms of prayer, adapted to their 
circumstances and capacities; which, with the help of 
my interpreter, I translated into the Indian language ; 
and soon learned to pronounce their words, so as to 
pray with them in their own tongue. Talso translated 
sundry psalms into their language, and soon after we 
were adle to sing in the worship of God. 

“When my people had gained some acquaintance 
with many of the simplest truths of Christianity, so 
that they were capable of receiving and understanding 
others, I gave them an historical account of God’s 


| _ dealings with his ancient professing people, the Jews; 


some of the rites and ceremonies they were obliged to 
observe, as their sacrifices, &c.; and what these were 
designed to represent to them; as also some of the sur- 
prising miracles God wrought for their salvation, while 
they trusied in him; and sore punishments he some- 
times brought upon them, when they forsook and sin- 
ned against him. Afterward I proceeded to give them 
arelation of the birth, life, miracles, sufferings, death, 
and resurrection of Christ; as well as his ascension, 
and the wonderful effusion of the Holy Spirit conse- 
quent thereupon. °\ 

“ And having thus endeavored*to prepare the way 
by such a general account of things, I next proceeded 
to read and expound tothem the Gospel of St. Matthew 


. 


: er 
88 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. ¥ 
(at least the substance of it) in course, wherein they 
had a more distinct and particular view of what they 


had had before some general notion. ‘These exposi- 
tions I attended almost every evening, when there was 


‘any considerable number of them at home ; except 


when I was obliged to be absent myself, in) order to 
learn the Indian language with the Rev. Mr. Sargeant. 
Besides these means of instruction, there was likewise 
an English school constantly kept by my interpreter 
among the Indians; which I used frequeptly to visit, 
in order to give the children and young people some 


. proper instructions, and serious exhortations suited to 


their age. 

“The degree of knowledge to which some of them 
attained was considerable. Many of the truths of Chris- 
tianity seemed fixed in their minds, especially in some 
instances, so that they would speak to me of them, 
and ask such questions about them as were necessary 
to render them more plain and clear to their under- 
standings. The children, also, and young people, who 
attended the school, made considerable proficiency (at 
least some of them) in their learning ; so that had they 
understood the English language well, they would 
have been able to read somewhat readily in a psalter. 

“ But that which was most of all desirable, and gave 
me the greatest encouragement amidst many cifficul- 
ties and disconsolate hours, was, that the truths of 
God’s word seemed, at times, to be attended with some 
power upon the hearts and consciences of the Indians. 
And especially this appeared evident in a few indivi- 
duals, who were awakened to some sensé of their mi- 
serable estate by nature, and appeared solicifops for 
deliverance from it. Several of them came, of their 
own accord to discourse with me about their soul’s 

‘. : 


1744. | AT KAUNAUMEEK. 89 


concerns; and some, with tears, inquired what they 
should do to be saved ?” 

The Indians at Kaunaumeek being but few in num- 
ber. and Brainerd having been laboring among them 
about a year, and having prevailed upon them to be 
‘willing)to. leave Kaunaumeek, and remove to Stock- 
| bridge, to live constantly under Mr. Sergeant’s minis- 
try; he thought he might now do more service for 
Christ among the Indians elsewhere: and therefore 
went to New-Jersey, and laid the matter before the 
Commissioners ; who met at Elizabeth-Town, on the 
occasion, and determined that he should forthwith 
leave Kaunaumeek, and go to the Delaware Indians. 

By the invitations which Brainerd had lately re- 
ceived, it appears, that it was not from necessity, or 
for want of opportunities to settle in the ministry, that 
he determined to forsake all the outward comforts, 
he might thus have enjoyed, to spend his life among 
savages, and endure the difficulties and self-denials of 
an Indian mission. He had, just as he was leaving 
Kaunaumeek, had an earnest invitation toa settlement 
at East-Hampton, one of the pleasantest towns on 
Long-Island. The people there were unanimous in 
‘their desires to have him for their pastor, and fora 
Jong time continued in earnest pursuit of him, and 
were hardly brought to relinquish their endeavors, and 
give up their hopes of obtaining him. Besides this, he 
had an invitation to preach with reference to a seftle- 
“ment in Millington, near his native town, and in the 
“midst of his friends. Nor did Brainerd choose the bu- 
/siness of a missionary to the Indians, rather than ac- 
cept of those invitations, because he was unacquainted 
| with the difficulties and sufferings which attended such 
a service; for he had had experience of these difficul- _ 

B rw. Be 


- 
} 


90 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. V. 


ties in summer and winter ; having spent about a year 
in a lonely desert among these savages, where he had 
gone through extreme hardships, and been the subject 
of a train of outward and inward sorrows, which were 
now fresh in his mind. “' ' 

After this he continued two or three days in New- 
Jersey, very ill ; and then returned to New-York; and 


from thence into New-England ; and went to his native 


town of Haddam, where he arrived on Saturday, April 
14. And he continues still his bitter complaints of want 
of retirement. While he was in New-York, he says 
thus, “ O it is not the pleasures of the world which can 
comfort me! If God deny his presence, what are the 
pleasures of the city to me? -One hour of sweet re- 
tirement where God is, is better than the whole world.” 

April 17.—“Tn the evening, at my brother’s, singing 
hymns with friends, my soul seemed to melt; and in 
prayer afterward, enjoyed the exercise of faith, and 
was enabled to be fervent in spirit: found more of 
God’s presence than I have done any time in my late 
wearisome journey. Eternity appeared very near; 
my nature was very weak, and seemed ready to bedis- 
solved; the sun declining, and the shadows of the 
evening drawing on apace. OI longed to fill up the 
remaining moments all for God! Though my body 
was so feeble, and wearied with preaching and much 
private conversation, yet I wanted to sit up all night to 
do something for God. To God, the giver of these 
refreshments, be glory for ever andever. Amen. 

April 18.—“ Was very weak, and enjoyed but little 
spiritual comfort. Was exercised with one who ca- 
villed against original sin. May the Lord open his 
eyes to see the fountain of sin in himself !” 

After this he visited several ministers in Connecti- 


| 1744.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 31 


eut; and then travelled towards Kaunaumeek, and 
_eame to Mr. Sergeant’s, at Stockbridge, Thursday, 
| April 26, having performed the journey in a very weak 
state of body. 

| April 27 and 28.—“ Spent some time in visiting 
friends, and discoursing with my people, (who were 
‘now moved down from their own place to Mr. Ser- 
geant’s) and found them very glad to see me returned. 
Was exercised in my mind with a sense of my own 
_ Unworthiness. 

fords day, April 29—“ Preached for Mr. Ser- 
geant both parts of the day, from Rev. 14: 4. Enjoyed 
‘some freedom in preaching, though not much spiri- 
tuality. In the evening, my heart was in some mea- 
sure lifted up in thankfulness to God for any assist- 
ance. 

April 30.—* Rode to acim but -was ex- 
| tremely ill; did not enjoy the comfort I hoped for in 
my own house. 

May 1.—* Having received new orders to go toa 
number of Indians on Delaware river, in Pennsylva- 
Ria, and my people here being mostly removed:to Mr. 
Sergeant’s, I this day took all my clothes, books, &e. 
and disposed of them, and set out fer Delaware river ; 
but made it my way to return to Mr. Sergeant’s, which 
‘I did this day, just at night. Rode several hours in 
) the rain th seugh the howling wilderness, although I 
Was so disordered in body, that little or nothing but 
biood came from me. 

May 8.—* Travelled about forty-five miles to a place 
ealied Fishkill ; and lodged there. Spent muchof my 
| time, while riding, in prayer that God would go with 
me to the Delaware. My heart sometimes was ready 
to sink with the thoughts of my work, end going alone 


| 
92 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | Chap. V. | 


in the wilderness, I knew not where ; but still it was. 
comfortable to think that others of God’s children had 
‘ wandered about in dens and caves of the earth 7 and 
Abraham, when he was called to go forth, ‘went out 
not knowing whither he went.’ O that I might follow, 
after God !” Mikes | 
The next day he went forward on his journey ; 
crossed the Hudson, and went to Goshen in the High- 
lands; and so traveled across the woods, from the 
Hudson to the Delaware, about a hundred miles, 
through a desolate and hideous country, above New-_ 
Jersey, where were very few settlements ; in whick 
journey he suffered much fatigue and hardship. He 
visited some Indians in the way, at a place called Miu- 
nissinks, and discoursed with them concerning Chris- 
tianity. Was considerably melancholy and disconso- 
late, being alone in a strange wilderness. On Satur- 
day, May 12, he came to a settlement of Ifish and_ 
Dutch people, and proceeding about twelve miles fur- | 
ther arrived at Sakkawwotung, an Indian settlement, 
within the Forksof the Delaware. / 
Lord's day, May 13.—“ Rose early ; felt very poorly 
after my long journey, and after being wet and fa- 
tigued. Was very melancholy; have scarcely ever 
seen such a gloomy morning in my life; there ap- 
peared to be no Sabbath ; tne children were all at play; 
I, a stranger in the wilderness, and knew not where to 
go; and all circumstances seemed to conspire to ren- 
der my affairs dark and discouraging. Was disap- 
pointed respecting an Interpreter, and heard that the 
Indians were much scattered. O, I mourned after the 
presence of God, and seemed like a creature banished 
from his sight! yet he was pleased to support my sink- | 
ig soul amidst all my sorrows; so that I never enter- 


1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 93 


tained any thought of quitting my business among the 
poor Indians ; but was comforted to think that death 
‘would ere long set me free from these distresses. 
Rode about three or four miles to the Irish people, 
where I found some that appeared sober and con- 
cerned about religion. My heart then began to be a 
little encouraged : went and preached first to the Irish 
and then to the Indians; and in the evening was a 
little comforted ; my soul ‘seemed to rest on God, and 
take courage. 

Lord's day, May 20.—‘“ Preached twice to the poor 
Indians ; and enjoyed some freedom in speaking, while 
I attempted to remove their prejudices against Chris- 
itianity. My soul longed continually for assistance 
from above ; for I saw I had no strength sufficient for 
that work. Afterward preached to the Irish people ; 
was much assisted in the first prayer, and somewhat 
in the sermon. Several persons seemed much con- 
cerned for their souls, with whom I discoursed after- 
ed with much freedom and some power. Blessed 
be God for any assistance afforded to an unworthy 
worm. O that I could live to him! 

Lord’s day, May 27.—“ Visited my Indians in the 
morning, and attended upon a funeral among them; 
was affected to see their heathenish practices. O that 
they might be ‘ turned from darkness to light ? After- 
ward got a considerable number of them together, and 
reached to them; and observed them very attentive. 
After this preached to the white pecple from Heb. 
2:3. ‘ How shall we escape if we neglect so great 
alyation ?’ Was enabled to speak with some freedom 
and power: several people seemed much concerned 
‘or their souls ; especially one who had been educated 
a Roman Catholic. Blessed be the Lord for any help. 


94 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. ¥ 


May 28.—“Set out from the Indians above theF ork! 
of the Delaware, on a journey toward Newark, it 
New-Jersey, according to my orders. Rode throug} 
the wilderness; was much fatigued with the heat 
lodged at a place called River; was excagy 
mgly tired and worn out. ra 

Lord’s day, June 10.—“ [at ‘Newark. | In the morn 
ing was much concerned how I should perform the 
work of the day: and trembled at the thoughts of be. 
ing left to myself. Enjoyed very considerable assist: 
ance in all parts of the public service. Had an oppor. 
tunity again to attend on the ordinance of the Lord’ 
Supper, and through divine goodness was refreshed in 
it: my soul was full of love and geal toward the 
children of God, and toward all men.’ At night J 
enjoyed more spirituality and sweet desire of holiness, 
than I have felt for some time: was afraid of every 
thought and every motion, lest thereby my heart 
should be drawn away from God. O that I might 
never leave the blessed God! ‘ Lord, in thy presence 
is fulness of joy.’ O the blessedness of living to God! 

June 11.—“ This day the Presbytery met at New- 
ark, in order to my ordination. Was very weak and 
disordered in body ; yet efdeavored to repose my con- 
fidence in God. Spent most of the day alone; espe- 
cially the forenoon. At three in the afternoon preached 
my probation sermon from Acts, 26:17, 18, being a 
text given me for that purpose. Felt not well either 
in body or mind: however, God carried through 
comfortably. Afterward passed an aon before 
the Presbytery. Was much tired, and my mind bur 
dened with the greatness of that charge I was in the 
most solemn manner about to take upon me: my mind, 
was so pressed with the weight of the work incum- 


1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 95 


pent upon me, that I could not sleep this night, though 
very weary and in great need of rest. 

| June 12.—“ Was this morning further examined 
‘respecting my experimental acquaintance with Chris- 
fianity.. At 10 o’clock my ordination was attended ; 
the sermon preached | y the Rev. Mr. Pemberton. At 
this time I was affected with a sense of the important 
irust committed to me; yet was composed and solemn 
ithout distraction ; and I hope that then, as many 
imes before, I gave myself up to God, to be for him, 
d not for another. O that I might always be en- 
ed in the service of God, and duly remember the 
solemn charge I have received in the presence of God, 
angels,and men. Amen.” 


CEAPTER Vi. 


abors for the Indians at and near the Forks of Delaware—idola- 
trous feast and dance—journey through the wilderness to Ope- 
| holhaupung or the Susquehanna—erects a cotlage at Forks of the 
Delaware—some evidences of a work of ihe Spirit among the 
Indians—journey.to New-England to obtain money to support 
2 colleague—visit to the Indians on the Susquehanna—journey 
to Crossweeksung in New-Jerseu. id 


June 13, 1744 —June 18, 1745. 


June 13, 1744. [At Elizabeth Town.]—“ ‘Spent con- 
iderable time in writing an account of the Indian af- 
airs, to be sent to Scotland ; some, in conversation with 
riends; but had not much spiritual enjoyment.” 

On Tuesday, June 19, he set out on his journey, 
nd in three days reached his residence near the Forks 
f Delaware. Performed the journey under much 


, 7 


96 - LIFE OF BRAINERD. - [ Chap. VI 


\ 
weakness of body, but had comfort in his soul, from 
day to day. 

Lord’s day, June 24.—“ Extremely feeble ; scarcely 
able to walk: however visited my Indians, and took 
much pains to instruct them; labored with some that 
weremuch disaffected toward Christianity. My mind 


" was much burdened with the weight and difficulty of 


my work. My whole dependence and hope of sue- 
cess seemed to be on God; who alone I saw could 
make them willing to receive instruction. My heart 
was much engaged in prayer, sending up silent re- 
quests to God, even while I was speaking to them. 0 
that I could always go in the strength of the Lord! 
June 25.—“ Was somewhat better in health than of 
late; and was able to spend a considerable part of the 
day in prayer and close study. Had more freedom 
and fervency in prayer than usual of late ; especially 
longed for the presence of God in my work, and that 
the poor Heathen might be converted. And in evening 
prayer my faith and hope in God were much raised, 
To an eye of reason every thing that respects the con- 
version of the Heathen is as dark as midnight ; and yet 
I cannot but hope in God for the accomplishment of 
something glorious among them. My soul longed 
much for the advancement of the Redeemer’s kingdom 
onearth. Was very fearful lest I should admit some 
vain thought, and so lose the sense I then had of divine 
things. O for an abiding heavenly temper! 
June 26.—“ In the morning, my desires seemed t 
rise, and “ascend up freely to God. Was busy most 
the day in translating prayers into the language of th 
Delaware Indians; met with great difficulty, because 
my interpreter was altogether unacquainted with the 
business. But though I was much discouraged with 


~ 


| 1744.| AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 97 


the extreme difficulty of that work, yet God supported 
' me; and especially in the evening, gave me sweet re- 
freshment.* In prayer my soul was enlarged, and my 
_ faith drawn into sensible exercise; was enabled to cry 
| to God for my poor, indians ; and ‘though the work of 
their conversion appeared impossible with man, yet with 
God 1 saw allthings were possible. My faith was much 
strengthened, by observing the wonderful assistance 
| God afforded his servants Nehemiah and Ezra, in re- 
' forming his people and re-establishing his ancient 
church. I was much assisted in prayer for my dear 
' Christian friends, and for others whom I apprehended 
to be Christless; but was more especially concerned 
for the poor heathen, and those of my own charge; 
was enabled to be instant in prayer for them; and 
hoped that God would bow the heavens and come down 
for their salvation. It seemed to me that there could 
be no impediment sufficient to obstruct that glorious 
' work, seeing the living God, as I strongly hoped, was 
engaged for it. I continued ina solemn frame, lifting 
' up my heart to God for assistance and grace, that I 
| might be more mortified to this present world, that my 
_ whole soul might be taken up continually in concern 
for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom. Earnestly 
desired that God would purge me more, that I might 
be as a chosen vessel to bear his name among the 
Heathen. 

June 23.—“Spent the morning in reading several 
parts of the holy scripture, and in fervent prayer for 
my Indians, that God would set up his kingdom among 
them, and bring them into his church. About nine I 
withdrew to my usual place of retirement in the woods, 
| and there again enjoyed some assistance in prayer. 


| My great concern was for the conversion of the hea- 
9 Brainerd. 


" 


98 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. VI. 


,, then to God ; and the Lord helped me to plead with 
_ him for it. Toward noon rode up to the Indians in 
ma order to preach to them; and while going my heart 
* went up to God in prayer for them; could freely tell 
God he knew that the cause in which I was engaged - 


was not mine ; but that it was his own cause, and that 
it would be for his own glory to convert the poor In- 


dians: and blessed be God I felt no desire of their | 
conversion that 1 might receive honor from the world 


as being the instrument of it. Had some freedom in | 


speaking to the Indians. * 

June 30.—“ My soul wes very solemn in Treading 
God’s word, especially the ninth chapter of Daniel. [ 
saw how God had called out his servants to prayer, 
and made them wrestle with him, wlien he designed 
to bestow any great mercy on his church. And, alas! 
I was ashamed of myself to think of my duilness and 
inactivity when there seemed to be so much to do.for 
the upbuilding of Zion. O how does Zion lie waste! 
F longed that the church of God might be enlarged ; 
was enabled to pray, I think, in faith; my soul seemed 
sensibly to confide in God, and was enabled to wrestle 
with him. Afterward walked abroad to a place of 
sweet retirement; enjoyed some assistance in prayer, 
had a sense of my great need of divine help, and felt 
my soul sensibly depend on Ged. Blessed be God, 
this has been a comfortable week to me. 

Lords day, July 1.—“ After I came to them my 
mind was confused, and I felt nothing sensibly of that 
sweet reliance on God with which my soul has been 


comforted in days past. Spent the forenoon in this _ 


posture of mind, and preached to the Indians without 
any heart. In the afternoon I felt still barren when I 
began to preach, and for about half an hour: I seemed 


1744.] AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. $9 


to myself to know nothing, and to have nothing to. 


say to the Indians; but soon after I-found in myself a h 


spirit of love, and ee) and power, to address the — 
poor Indians, and God helped me to plead with them, 
to ‘turn from all the vanities of the heathen to the 
living God; Iam persuaded that the Lord touched 
their consciences; for I never saw such attention | 
raised in them. When I came away from them, I 
spent the whole time I was riding to my lodgings, 
three miles distant, in prayer and praise to God. After 
[ had rode more than two miles it came into my mind 
to dedicate myself to God again, which I did with 
great solemnity and unspeakable satisfaction ; espe- 
cially gave up myself to him renewedly in the work 
of the ministry. This I did by divine grace, I hope, 
without any exception or reserve; not in the least 
shrinking back from any difficulties that might attend 
this great and blessed work. I seemed to be most free, 
cheerful, and full in this dedication of myself. My 
whole soul cried, ‘ Lord, to thee I dedicate myself! O 
accept of me, and let me be thine for ever. Lord, I 
desire nothing else; I desire nothing more. O come, 
coine, Lord, accept a-poor worm. My heart rejoiced 
in my particular work as a missionary ; rejoiced in my 
necessity of self-denial in many respects, and J still 
continued to give up myself to God, and to implore 
mercy of him, praying incessantly every moment with 
sweet fervency. My nature being very weak of late, 
and much spent, was now considerably overcome: my 
fingers grew very feeble, and somewhat numb, so that 
I could searcely stretch fem out straight, and when I 
lighted from my horse could hardly walk; my joints 
seemed all to be loosed. But I felt abundant strength 
in the inner man. Preached to the white people ; God 


» 


| 


100 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. VI 


helped me much, especially in prayer. Sundry of my 
poor Indians were so moved as to come to meeting 
also, and one appeared much concerned. 

July 3.—* Was still very weak. This morning was” 
enabled to pray under a feeling sense of my need of 
help from God, and I trust had some faith in exercise; 
and, blessed be God, was enabled to plead with him a_ 
considerable time. Truly God is good to me. But 
my soul mourned, and was grieved at my sinfulness” 
and barrenness, and longed to be more engaged for 
God. Near nine, withdrew again for prayer, and 
‘through divine goodness had the blessed spirit of 
prayer ; my soul loved the duty, and longed for God 
in it. O it is sweet to be dhe Lord’s, to be sensibly de- 
voted to him! What a blessed portion is God! How 
glorious, how lovely in himself! O my soul longed to 
improve time wholly for God! Spent most of the day 
in translating prayers into Indian. In the evening 
was enabled again to wrestle with God in prayer with 
fervency. Was enabled to maintain a self-diffident 
and watchful frame of spirit, and was jealous, and 
afraid lest I should admit carelessness and self-con- 
fidence. 

July 6—* Awoke this morning in the fear of God, 
and spent my first waking minutes in prayer for sanc- 
tification, that my soul may be washed from its ex- 
ceeding pollution and defilement. After I arose I spent 
some time in reading God’s word, and in prayer. I 
cried to God under a sense of my great indigence. I 
am of late most of all concerned for ministerial quali- 
fications, and the conversion of the heathen. Last 
year I longed to be prepared for a world of glory, and 
speedily to depart out of this world ; but of late all my 
concern almost is for the conversion of the heathen, — 


1744. | AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 101 


and for that end I long to live. But blessed be God I 
have less desire to live for any of the pleasures of the 
world than I ever had. I long and love to be a pil- 
grim, and want grace to imitate the life, labors and 
sufferings of St. Paul among the heathen. And when 
i long for holiness now, it is not so much for myself 
as formerly, but rather thereby I may become an ‘able 
minister of the New Testament,’ especially to the 
heathen. 

July 7.—“ Was very much disordered this morning, 
and my vigor all spent and exhausted; but was affect- 
ed and refreshed in reading the sweet story of Elijah’s 
translation, and enjoyed some affection and fervency in 
prayer ; longed much for ministerial gifts and graces, 
that I might do something in the cause of God. After- 
ward was refreshed and invigorated while reading 
Aueine’s first Case of Conscience, &c.—was enabled 
then to pray with some ardor of soul—was afraid of 
carelessness and self-confidence, and longed for ho- 
liness. ‘ 

Lord’s day, July 8.—“ Was ill last night—not able 
to rest quietly. Had some small degree of assistance 
in preaching to the Indians, and afterward was enabled 
to preach to the white people with some power, espe- 
cially in the close of my discourse, from Jer. 3: 23. 
“Truly in vain is salvation hoped for from the hills,’ 
&e. The Lord also assisted me in some measure in 
the first prayer; blessed be his name. Near night, 
though very weary, was enabled to read God’s word 
with some sweet relish of it, and to pray with affec- 
tion, fervency, and I trust with faith; my soul was 
more sensibly dependant on God than usual. Was 
watchful, tender, and jealous of my own heart, lest I 
should admit carelessness and vain thoughts, and 

Q* 


” 


102 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. VI 


grieve the blessed Spirit, so that he should withdraw 
his sweet, kind, and tender influences. Longed to 
‘depart, and be with Christ, more than at any time — 
of late. My soul was exceedingly united to the saints” 
of ancient times, as well as those now living; espe- 
cially my soul melted for the society of Elijah and 
Elisha. Was enabled to cry to God with a child-like © 
spirit, and to continve instant in prayer for sometime. © 
Was much enlarged in the sweet duty of interces- 
sion; was enabled to remember great numbers of dear 
friends, and precious souls, as well as Christ’s minis- _ 
ters. Continued in this frame, afraid of every idle | 
thought, till I dropped asleep. ; 

July 21.—* This morning I was greatly es 
with guilt and shame from a sense of inward vileness — 
and pollution. About nine withdrew to the woods for — 
prayer, but had not much comfort; I appeared to” 
myself the vilest, meanest creature upon earth, and — 
could scarcely live with myself; so mean and vile I~ 
appeared, that I thought I should never be able to hold — 
up my face in heaven, if God, of his infinite grace, 
should bring me thither. Toward night my burden ~ 
respecting my work among the Indians began to in- 
crease much, and was aggravated by hearing sundry 
things which looked very discouraging, in particular 
that they intended to meet together the next day for 
an idolatrous feast and dance. Then I began to be in 
anguish ; I thought that I must in conscience go and 
endeavor to break them up, yet knew not how to 
attempt such a thing. However, I withdrew for prayer 
hoping for strength from above. In prayer I was ex: 
ceedingly enlarged, and my soul was as much drawn” 
out as I ever remember it to have been in my life. I 
was,in such anguish, and’ pleaded with such earnest- 


Fh 
24 


1744.1 AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 103 


_ ness and importunity, that when [rose from my knees 
_ I felt extremely weak and overcome ; I could scarcely 


, 


if 


| walk straight; my joints were loosed ; the sweat ran 
| down my face and body, and nature seemed as if it 


would dissolve. So far as I could judge, I was wholly 
free from selfish ends in my fervent supplications for 
the poor Indians. I knew that they were met together 
to worship devils, and not God; and this made me 
ery earnestly that God would now appear and help me 
in my attempts to break up this idolatrous meeting. 


_ My soul pleaded long, and I thought that God would 
‘hear, and would go with me to vindicate his own 


cause: I seemed to confide in God for his presence 
and assistance. And thus I spent the evening, praying 


_ incessantly for divine assistance, and that I might not 


be self-dependent, but still have my whole dependance 
upon God. What I passed through was remarkable, 


_ and indeed inexpressible. All things here below van- 
_ ished, and there appeared to be nothing of any con- 


siderable importance to me, but holiness of heart and 
life, and the conversion of the heathen to God. All 


_ my cares, fears and desires, which might be said to be 
' of a worldly nature, disappeared, and were, in my 
| esteem, of little more importance than a puff of wind. 


T exceedingly longed that God: would get to himself a 
name among the heathen; and I appealed to him with 
the greatest freedom, that he knew I ‘ preferred him 
above my chief joy.’ Indeed,} had no notion of joy 
from this world ; I cared not where or how I lived, or 
what hardships I went through, so that I could but 


-gain souls to Christ. I continued in this frame all the 


' evening and night. While I was asleep I dreamed of 


these things; and when I waked, (asI frequently did, 
the first thing I thought of was this sreat work of 
pleading for God against Satan. 


Ma. 
1 


104 LIFE OF BRAINERD. __[Chap. vi 


Lord’s day. July 22.—* When I waked my soul w 
burdened with what seemed to be before me. I eri 
to God, before I could get out of my bed; and as soon 
as I tas dressed I withdrew into the w oods, to pour 
out my burdened soul to God, especially for assistance 
in my great work ; for I could scarcely think of any 
thing else. I enjoyed the same freedom and fervency 
as the last evening ; and did with unspeakable freedom 
give up myself afresh to God, for life or death, for all 
hardships to which he should call me, among the 
heathen; and felt as if nothing could discourage me 
from this blessed work. I had a strong hope that God 
would ‘bow the heavens and come down,’ and do 
some marvellous work among the heathen. While I 
was riding to the Indians, three miles, my heart was 
continually going up to God for his presence and as- 
sistance ; and hoping, and almost expecting, that God 
would make this the day of his power and grace 
amongst the poor Indians. When I came to them, 1 
found them engaged in their frolic ; but through divine 
goodness I persuaded them to desist and attend to my 
preaching: yet still there appeared nothing of the 
special power of God among them. Preached again 
to them in the afternoon, and observed the Indians 
were more sober than before; but still saw nothing 
special among them. Hence satan took occasion to 
tempt and buffet me with these cursed suggestions, 
There is no God, or if there be, he is not able to con- 
vert the Indians, before they have more knowledge, 
&c. I was very weak and weary, and my soul borne 
down with perplexity; but was mortified to all the 
world, and was determined still to wait upon God for 
the conversion of the heathen, though the devil tempt- 
ed me to the contrary. 


1744.) - AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 105 


July 24.—* Rode about seventeen miles westward, 
>ver a hideous mountain, to a numberof Indians. Got 
Jogether near thirty of them: preached to them in the 
evening, and lodged among them. Was weak, and 
Jelt in some degree disconsolate ; yet could nae no 
freedom in the thought of any other circumstances or 
business in life. All my desire was the conversion of 
ihe heathen; and all my hope was in God. God does 
jot suffer me to please or comfort myself with hopes 
of seeing friends, returning to my dear acquaintance, 
ind enjoying worldly comforts. 

Lord’s day, August 5.—“ Though very weak, I vi- 
sited and preached to the poor Indians twice, oe was 
strengthened vastly beyond my expectations. Indeed 
he Lord gave me some freedom and fervency in ad- 
iressing them ; though I had not strength enough to 
stand, but was obliged to sit down the whole time. 
‘oward night was extremely weak, faint, sick, and full 
of pain. Iseem to myself like a man that has all his 
State embarked in one small boat, unhappily going 
idrift down a swift torrent. The poor owner stands 
m the shore, and looks, and laments his loss. But, 
as ! though my al! seems to be adrift, and I stand and 
fee it, I dare not lament; for this sities my spirits 
ore, and aggravates my bodily disorders! I am 
forced, therefore, to divert myself with trifies; al- 
Push at the same time I am afraid, and often feel as 
fl was guilty of the misimprovement of time. And 
rftentimes my conscience is so exercised with this mi- 
serable way of spending time, that I have no peace; 
hough I have no strength of mind or body to improve 
t to better purpose. O that God would pity ny dis- 
lressed state!” 

The next three weeks his illness was less severe } 


“Py | 


106 LIFE OF BRAINERD. © [ Chap. ¥I 


and he was in some degree capable of business, be 
public and private, though he had some turns wherei) 
his indisposition prevailed to a great degree. He hai 
generally also much more inward assistance 
strength of mind. He often expresses great longing: 
for the enlargement of Christ’s kingdom, especially} 
by the conversion of the heathen to God ; and speak 
of this hope as all his delight and joy. He contint 
still to express his usual desires after holiness, livi 
to God, and asense of his own unworthiness. I 
several times speaks of his appearing to himself he 
vilest creature on earth ; and once says, that he veril 
thought there were none of God’s children who fe] 
so far short of that holiness, and perfection in thei 
obedience, which God requires, as he. He speaks 0 
his feeling more dead than ever to the enjoyments 6 
the world. He sometimes mentions the special assist 
ance which he had at this time, in preaching to tht 
Indians, and the appearances of religious concet 
among them. He speaks also of assistance in prayei 
for absent friends, and especially ministers and can. 
didates for the ministry ; and of much comfort whieh 
he enjoyed in the company of some ministers’ wi 
came to visit him. 
~ Sept. 1.—“ Was so fai thened, after a seas 
of great weakness, that I was able to spend two 
three hours in writing on a divine subject. Enjoy 
some comfort and sweetness in things divine and 8% 
cred; and as my bodily strength was in some meastl 
restored, so my soul seemed to be somewhat vigorou 
and engaged in the things of God. é 
Lord’s day, Sept. 2.—‘* Was enabled to speak to my 
poor Indians with much concern and fervency ; and 
am persuaded that God enabled me to exercise faith im 


ies, AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 107 


m, while I was speaking to them. JI perceived that 
mme of them were afraid io hearken to and embrace 
hristianity, lest they should be enchanted and poi- 
ned by some of the powaws: but I was enabled to 
ad with them not to fear these; and, confiding in 
od for safety and deliverance, { bid a challenge to ali 
ese powers of darkness, tr. do their worst on me first. 

old my people that % was a Christian, and asked 
em why thé powaws did not bewitch and poison me. 

carcely ever felt more sensible of my own unwor- 
iness, than in this action. I saw that the honor of 
d was concerned ; and desired to be preserved—not 
om selfish views—but for a testimony of the divine 
jwer and goodness, and of the truth of Christianity, 
id that God might be glorified. Afterward, I found 
y soul rejoice in God for his assisting grace.” 

‘After this, he went a journey into New-England, and 
is absent from the place of his abode, at the Forks 
: Delaware, about three weeks. He was ima feeble 
ite the greater part of the time. But in the latter 
the journey he found that he gained much in health 
1d strength. 

: Sepi. 26.—“ Rode home to the Forks of Delaware. 

hat reason have I to bless God, who has preserved 

: in riding more than four hundred and twenty. 
es, and has ‘ kept all my bones, that not one of 
m has been broken!’ My health likewise is great- 
recovered. O that I could dedicate my all to God! 

is is all the return I can make to him.” 

When he began to preach here, he had not more 

m'from twenty to twenty-five hearers; their num- 

s at length increased to forty, or more; and often 

st belonging to those parts came together to hear 

in preacn. Ina letter to Rev. Mr. Pemberton, he says 


i 


ws 


‘detest their old idolatrcus notions, but strive also 


judices against Christianity, on account of the vicio 


sé » 


t - | 
108 LIFE OF BRAINERD,” © “" [Chaps ¥] 
— (se . | 
“The effects which the truths of Ge word have 
, upon some of ‘the Indians in this place, are somevy 


encouraging. A number of them are bi ought tC 
nounce idolatry, and to decline partaking of th 
feasts which they used to offer in sacrifice to cer 
supposed unknown powers. “And some few am 
them have, for a considerable time, manifested a 
rious concern for their soul’s: eternal welfare, and 
continue to ‘inquire the way to Zion, with such ¢ 
gence, affection, and becoming solicitude, as gives 
reason to hope that ‘ God who, I trust, has begun 
work in them,’ will carry it on, until it shall issue 
their saving conversion to himself. These not o 


bring their friends off from them. And as they a 
seeking salvation for their own souls, so they seem ¢ 
sirous, and some of them take pains, that others migh 
be excited to do the same. 

“There are also many difficulties, that attend 
christianizing of these poor pagans. 

“ Tn the first place, their minds are filled with 


lives and unchristian behavior of some that are Call 
Christians. These not only set before them the wa 
examples, but some of them take pains, expressly 
words, to dissuade them from becoming Christiat 
foreseeing that if these should be converted to G 
‘the hope of their unlawful gain’ would thereby be Io: 
“ Again: these poor heathens are extremely attach 
to the cusloms, traditions, and fabulous notions of the 
fathers. And this one seems to be the foundation 
all their other notions, viz. that ‘it was not the same 
God made them, who made the white people? 
anvther, who commanded them to live by hunting 


| £ 


744.) + AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 109 
a oy ee 


to conform tothe customs of the white 
| Jence, when they are desired to become 
Yhristians, they frequently reply, that ‘ they will live 
s their fathers lived, and go to their fathers when 
hey die” And if the miracles of Christ and his apos- 
les be mentioned to prove the truth of Christianity, 
hey also mention sundry miracles which their fathers 
jave told them were anciently wrought among the 
ndians, and which satan makes them believe were 
o. They are much attached to idolatry, frequently 
gaking feasts, which they eat in honor to some un- 
pen beings, who, they suppose, speak to them in 
Jreams ; promising them success in hunting, and other 
fairs, in case they will sacrifice to them. They often- 
‘mes also offer their sacrifices to the spirits of the 
lead, who, they suppose, stand in need of favors from 
he living, and yet are in such a state as that they can 
vell reward all the offices of kindness that are shown 
hem. And they impute all their calamities to, the 
ieglect of these sacrifices. ' 
“ Furthermore, they are much awed by those among 
hemselves whe are called powaws, who are supposed 
have a power of enchanting, or poisoning them to 
e: or at least in a very distressing manner. And 
ey apprehended_it would be their sad fate to be thus 
nchanted in case they should become Christians. 
| “The manner of their living is likewise a great dis- 
ppaitage to the design of their being christianized. 
They are almost continually roving from place to 
lace, and it is but rare that an opportunity can be 


rad with some of them for their instruction.” 
4 


| 
| Oct. 1.—“ Was engaged in making preparations for 


ay intended journey to the Susquehanna. Withdrew 
10 Breiuerd. 


=" ll 


& | 


", ue» LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 


several times to the woods for secret duties, and en 
dezvored to plead for the’divine presence to go 
me to the poor Pagans, to whom I was going to ie 
the Gospel.. Toward night rode about four miles, am 
me: brother Byram, who was come at my desire to b 
my companion in travel to the Indians. I rejoice 
see him, and I trust God made his conversation pr 
able tome. Isaw him, asI thought, more dead to 
world, its anxious cares and alluring objects, th 
wat; and this made me look within myself, and | 
mé a greater sense of my guilt, ingratitude, and misery 
Oct. 2.—“* Set out on my journey in company witl 
dezr brother Byram and my interpreter, and two i 


Incians from the Forks of Delaware. Traveled abo 
twenty-five miles, and lodged in one of the last ho 

on our road; after which there was nothing but ¢ 
hideous and howling wilderness. 

Oct. 3.— We went on our way into the wilderness 
ane found the most difficult and dangerous traveling 
by far, that ever any of us had seen. We had scaree 
any thing else but lofty mountains, deep valleys, and 
- hideous rocks, to make our way through. However 
I had some ‘spiritual enjoyment part of the day, an 
my mind intensely engaged in meditation on a divin 
subject. Near night my horse hung one of her legs 
in the rocks and fell down under me, but through 
div.ne goodness I was not hurt.. However, she broke 
her leg ; and being in such a hideous place, and near 
thirty miles from any house, I saw nothing that could 
be done to preserve her life, and so was obliged to ki 
her, and to prosecute my journey on foot. This acéi- 
dext made me admire the divine goodness to me that 
my bones were not broken, and the multitude of them 
filled with strong pain. - Just at dark we kindled a fire, 


1744.) JOURNEY TO SUSQUEHANNA. i, 


tut up a few bushes, and made a shelter over our heads 
o save us from the frost, which was very hard that 
aight, and committing ourselves to God by prayer, 
ve lay down on the ground and slept quietly.” 

The next day they went forward on their journey. 
ind at night took up their lodgings in the woods in 
ike manner. 
| Oct. 5.—“ We reached the Susquehanna river at a 
place called Opeholhaupung, and found there twelve 
‘ndian houses. After I had saluted the king in a 
‘riendly manner I told him my business, and that my 
Jesire was to teach ‘them Christianity. After some 
vonsultation the Indians gathered, and I preached to 
‘hem. And when I had done I asked if they would 
hear me again. They replied that they would consider 
fit, and soon after sent me word that they would im- 
nediately attend if I would preach, which I did with 
reedom, both times. When I asked them again, 
whether they would hear me further, they replied, they 
vould the next day. I was exceeding sensible of the 
mpossibility of doing any thing for the poor Heathen 
vithout special assistance from above ; and my soul 
‘eemed to rest on God, and leave it to him to do as he 
leased in that which I saw was his own cause. In- 
‘eed, through divine goodness, I had felt somewhat 
f this frame most of the time while I was traveling 
habe and in some measure before I set out. 

) Oct. 6.—“ Rose early and besought the Lord for 
elp in my great work. Near noon, preached again 
9 the Indians; and in the afternoon visited them f:om 
louse to house, and invited them to come and hear me 
gain the next day, and put off their hunting design. 
yhich they were just entering upon, till Monday 
fei night’ I trust, ‘the Lord stood by me,’ to en- 
\ 


| 


Pn ae a 


‘TT 


P 
2 LIFE OP BRAINERD, Chap. Vi. 


courage and strengthen my soul: I spent more -tha 
an hour in secret retirement ; was enabled to ‘ pour out 
my heart before God,’ for the: increase of grace in my 
soul, for ininisterial endowinente; for success among 
the poor Indians, for God’s ministers and people, for 
distant dear friends, &c. Blessed be God! ‘ 
Oct. 8.—“ Visited the Indians with a design to take 
my leave of them, supposing they would this morni 
go out to hunting early; but beyond my expectation 
and hope, they desired to hear me preach again. I 
gladly complied with their request, and afterward en- 
deavored to answer their objections against Christianity, 
Oct. 9.—“ We rose about. four in the morning, and 
commending ourselves to God by prayer, and aski 
his special protection, set out on our journey hom 
ward about five, and traveled with great steadiness till 
past six at night and then made us a fire and a shelter 
of bark, and so rested: Thad some clear and comfor- 
table thodatits on a divine subject, by the way, toward 
night. In the night, the wolves howled around 
but God preserved us.” | 
The next day they rose early, and at night came te 
an Irish settlement, with which Brainerd was 
quainted, and lodged there. On the following day 
both he and Mr. Byram preached to the people. | — 
Oct. 12.—“ Rode home to my lodgings; where I 
poured out my soul to God in seeret prayer, and 
deavored to bless him for his abundant goodness to me 
in my late journey. I scarcely ever enjoyed more 
health, at least of later years; and God marvellously 
and almost miraculously, supported me under the 
tigues of the way, and traveling on foot. Blessed 
the Lord, who continually preserves me. 
Lord’s day, Oct. 14.—“I went to the place of publie 


1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 13 


worship, lifting up my heart to God for assistance and 
grace, in my great work ; and God was gracious to me, 
helping me to plead with him for holiness, and to use 
the strongest arguments with him, drawn from the in- 
varnation and sufferings of Christ, for this very end, 
hat’ men might be made holy. Adverts I was mueh 
lelsted in preaching. I know not that ever God 
aelped me to preach in a. more close and distinguishing 
nanner for the trial of men’s state. Through the nfi- 
hite goodness of God, I felt what I spoke ; and he ena- 


dled me to treat on divine truth with uncommon 


Hearness. 
| Oct, 24—“Near noon, rode to: my seep spent 
‘ome time, and prayed with. them ; felt the frame of a 
bilgi zm on earth; longed much to leave this gloomy 
nansion; but yet found the exercise of patience and 


esignation. And as I returned home from the In- 


od. n*the evening,enjoyed lessed season alone 
a prayer ; was enabled to cry ae with a child-like 
pirit, for the space of near an hour; enjoyed a sweet 
beedom i in supplicating for myself, for dear friends, 

inisters, and some who are preparing for that work, 
us for the church of God; and longed to be as lively 
ayself in God’s service as the angels. 

_ Oct. 26.—“In the morning my soul was melted 


bith asense of divine goodness and mercy to sucha | 


ile unworthy worm. I delighted to lean upon God, 
nd place my whole trust in him. My soul was ex- 
eedingly grieved for sin, and prized and longed after 
oliness ; it wounded my heart deeply, yet sweetly, to 
aink how I had abused a kind God. I longed to be 
erfectly holy that I might not grieve a gracious God; 
rho will continue to love + ia ariatin his love is~ 
ye 10* 


lians, ee the whole time in lifting up my heart to - 


od 


114 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. VI 


abused! I longed for holiness more for this end than 
Ic¢:d for my own happiness’ sake ; and yet this a 
my greatest happiness, never more to dichonem but 
always to glorify the blessed God. ce 

Oct. 31.—‘‘ Was sensible of my barrenness and de- 
cays in the things of God: my soul failed when J 
remembered the fervency which*I had enjoyed at the 
throne of grace. , I thought, if I could but be on 
tual, warm, heavenly minded, and affectionately breath- 
ing after Gud, this would be better than life to nel 
My soul longed exceedingly for death, to be loosed 
from this dullness and barrenness, and made for ever 
active in the service of God. I seemed to live for no- 
thing, and-to do no good: and O the burden of such 
a life! O death, death, my kind friend, hasten and 
deliver me from dull mortality: and make me spiritual 
and vigorous to eternity !” # 

Nov. 5.—He set out on a journey to New-York, and 
was from home more than a fortnight. H& =i 


posed to cold and ms, became. greatly fati 
and when he returned from New-York to New-Jersey 
was taken ill, and detained some time. ‘al 
Nov. 21. _K Rode from Newark to Rockciticus in the 
cold, and was almost overcome with it. Enjoyed some 
sweetness in conversation with dear Mr. Jones, while 
I dined with him. My soul loves the people of 
and especially the ministers of Jesus Christ who 
the same trials that I do. | 
_ Nov. 22.—“ Came on my way from Rockciticus to 
the Delaware. Was very much disordered. with a 
cold and pain in my_head. About six at night I 
my way. in the wilderness, and wandered over 


and mountains, down hideous steeps, through oa 
n 


and most dreadful and dangerous places; and the ni 


\744.j AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 115 


veing dark, so that few stars could be seen, I was 
zreatly exposed. I was much pinched with cold, and 
distressed with pain.in my head, attended with Biche 
ess at my stomach ; so that every step I took was dis- 
wressing tome. I jib little hope, for several hours 
ogether, but that I must lie out in the woods all night 
‘n this distressed case. But about nine o’clock I found 
’ house, through the abundant goodness of God, and 
was kindly entertained. ‘Thus I have frequently been 
exposed, and sometimes lain out the whole night: but 
God has hitherto preserved me; and blessed be his 
name. Such fatigues and iracticiags as these serve to 
wean me from the earth ; and 1 trust will make heaven 
the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed to 
cold, rain, &c. I was ready to please inyself with the 


thoughts of enjoying a comfortable house, a warm 
fire, and other outward comforts ; but now these have 


less place in my heart, (through the grace of God,) 
‘and my eye is more to God for comfort. In this world 
I expect tribulation ; and it does not now, as formerly, 
‘appear strange to me. Ido not,in such seasons of 
difficulty flatter myself that it will be better hereafter ; 
but rather think how much worse it might be ; how 
/much greater trials other's of God’s children have en- 
\dured; and how much greater are yet perhaps re- 
beerved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the 
thoughts of my journey’s end,and of my dissolution 
‘a great comfort to me under my sharpest trials; and 
iscarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror 
‘or melanclf6ly ; but they are attended frequently with 
igreat joy. 

| Nov. 23.—“ Visited a sick man; discoursed and 
|prayed with him. Then visited another house, where 
howe one dead and laid out; looked on the corpse, and 


a 


116 LIFE OF BRAINERD. . [Chap. VE 


longed that my time might come to depart and be 
Christ. Then went home to my lodgings about one 
o'clock. Felt poorly ; but was able to read most 0| 
the afternoon.” 
Within the space of the next twelve days he spent 
much time in hard labor, with others, to make for 
himself a little cottage or hut, to live in by himself 
through the winter. Yet he frequently preached to 
the Indians, and speaks of special assistance which he 
had from time to time, in addressing himself to the 
and of his sometimes having considerable cence 
ment from the attention which they gave. But on 
Tuesday, December 4, he was sunk into great dis- 
couragement, to see most.of them going in company 
to an idolatrous feast and dance, after he had taken 
abundant pains to dissuade them from these things. | 
Dec. 6.—“ Having now a happy opportunity of be- 
ing retired in a house of my own, which I have lately 
procured and moved into; considering that it is now 
a long time since I have been able, either on account. 
of bédily weakness or for want of retirement, or some. 
other difficulty, to spend any time in secret fasting 
and prayer; considering also the greatness of my 
work, the extreme difficulties that attend it, and that 
my poor Indians are now. worshipping devils, notwith- 
standing all the pains I have taken with them, which 
almost overwhelms my spirit ; moreover, considering 
my extreme barrenness, spiritual deadness and dejec- 
. tion, of late; as also the power of some particular cor- 
ruptions ; I set apart this day for secret ®rayer and. 
fasting, to implore the blessing of God on myself, on 
my poor people, on my friends, and onthe church of 
God. At first I felt a great backwardness to the duti 
of the day on account of the seeming impossibility of 


1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 117 ~ 


performing them; but the Lord helped me to break 
through this difficulty. God was pleased, by the use of 
means, to give me some clear conviction of my sinful- 
ness, and a discovery of the plague of my own heart, 
more affecting than what I have of late had. And es- 
pecially Tsaw my sinfulness in this, that when God 
/had withdrawn himself, then, instead of living and dy- 
ing in pursuit of him, I have been disposed to one of 
‘these two things: either to yield an unbecoming re- 
‘spect to some earthly objects, as if happiness were to 
be derived from them; or to be secretly froward and 
impatient, and unsuitably desirous of death, so that I 
have sometimes thought I could not bear to think that 
imy life must be lengthened out. That which often 
drove me to this impatient desire of death, was a de- 
spair of doing any good in life: and I chose death 
rather than a life spent for nothing. But now God 
made me sensible of my sin in these things, and en- 
abled me to cry to him for forgiveness. Yet this was 
not all I wanted, for my soul appeared exceedingly 
polluted, my heart seemed like a nest of vipers, or a 
tage of unclean and hateful birds; and therefore I 
wanted to be purified ‘by the bloed of sprinkling, that 
sleanseth from all sin.’ This, I hope, I was enabled to 
oray for in faith. J enjoyed much more intenseness, 
ervercy, and spirituality, than I expected; God was 
vetter to me than my fears. Toward night, I felt my 
soul rejoice, that God is unchangeably happy and glo- 
vious ; and that ke will be glorified, whatever becomes 
of his creatures. I was enabled to persevere in prayer 
‘until sometime in the evening; at which time I saw so 
much need of divine help, in every respect, that I knew 
hot how to leave off, and had forgot that I needed food. 
Blessed be the Lord for any help in the past day. - ~ 
i 
| 
| 


La 
>| 


118 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. VE 


Dec. 7, “Spent some time in prayer, in the m 
ing; enjoyed some freedom and affection in the d 
and had longing desires of being made ‘ faithful to 
death.’ Spent a little time in writing on a divine sub- 
ject ; then visited the Indians, and preached to them 
but I had no heart to speak to them, and could not do 
it, but as I forced myself: I knew they must hate to 
hear me, as having but just got home from their idola- 
trous feast and devil-worship. In the evening, had 
some freedom in prayer and meditation. $ 
Dec. 12.—“ Was very weak ; but somewhat assisted 
in secret prayer, and enabled with pleasure and sweet- 
ness to cry, ‘Cottle, Lord Jesus!" come, Lord Jesus! 
come quickly.’ My soul ‘longed for God, for the living 
God.’ O how delightful it is to pray under such sweet 
influences !' O how much better is this than one’s 
cessary food! I had at this time no disposition to oa 
(though late in the morning;) for earthly food 
peared wholly tasteless. O how much ‘better is 
love than wine,’ than the sweetest wine !—I visited 
and preached to the Indians in the afternoon ; but wu 
der much dejection. Found my Interpreter un 
some concern for his soul; which was some comfor 
to me; and yet filled me with new. care. I longed 
apeatly for his conversion; lifted up my heart to 
for it, while I was talking to him; came home, and 
poured out my soul to God for him; enjoyed som 
freedom in prayer, and was enabled, I think, to leave 
all with God. 
Dec. 18.—‘ Went to the Indians, and disewirsail to 
them near an hour, without any power to come clo se 
to their hearts. But at last I felt some fervency, and 
God helped me to speak with warmth. My Interpr 
ter also was amazingly assisted; and presently mo 


| 
1744.) = «aT: FORKS OF DELAWARE. 119 


of the grown persons were much affected, and the tears 
ran down their cheeks. One old man, I suppose an 
hundred years old, was so much affected that he wept, 
and seemed convinced of the importance of what I 
taught them. I staid with them a considerable time, 
exhorting and directing them; and came away, lifting 
up my heart to God in prayer and praise, and encou- 
raged and exhorted my Interpreter to ‘strive to enter 
im at the strait gate. » Came home, and spent most of 
she evening in prayer and thanksgiving; and found 
myself much enlarged and quickened. Was greatly 
concerned that the Lord’s work, which seemed to be 
begun, might be carried on with power, to the conver- 
sion of poor souls, and the glory of divine grace. 

: Dec. 19.—“Spent a great part of the day in prayer 
to God for the outpouring of his Spirit on my poor 
beople; as also to bless his name for awakening my 
Interpreter and some others, and giving us some tokens 
of his presence yesterday. And blessed be God, I had 
‘nuch freedom, five or six times in the day, in prayer 
and praise, and felt a weighty Concern upon my spirit 
for the salvation of those precious souls, and the en- 
largement of the Redeemer’s kingdom among them. 
My soul hoped in God for some success in my minis- 
iry: blessed be his name for so much hope. 

| Dec. 21.—“ Was enabled again to pray with freedom, 
bheerfulness, and hope. God was pleased to make the 
luty comfortable and pleasant to me; so that I delight- 
ed to persevere, and repeatedly to engage init. To- 
ward noon visited my people, and spent the whole 
jime in the way to them in prayer, longing to see the 
oower of God among them, as there appeared some- 
thing of it the last Tuesday; and I found it sweet to 
rest and hope in God. Preached to them twice, an* 


120 LIFE OF BRAINERD. _ + [Chap. vi 


at two distinct places: had considerable freedom 
time, and so had my Interpreter. Several of them 
lowed me from one place to the other; and I tho 
there was some divine influence discernible among 
them. In the evening was assisted in prayer — 
Blessed be the Lord. ‘i 

Dec. 25.—“ Enjoyed very little quiet sleep last nig 
by reason of bodily weakness, and the closeness of 1 
studies yesterday ; yet my heart was somewhat lively 
in prayer and praise. I was delighted with the divi 
glory and happiness, and rejoiced that God was on 
and that he was unchangeably possessed of glory 
blessedness. Though God held my eyes ad 
he helped me to improve my time profitably amidst mj 
pains and weakness, in continued meditations on Luke 
13:7. ‘Behold, these three years I come seeking frui 
&c. My meditations were sweet; and I wanted to 
before sinners their sin and dagen if 

He continued in a very. low state, as to his bod 
health, for some days, which seems to have been 
great hindrance to him in his religious exercises 
pursuits. But yet he expresses some degree of divi ine 
assistance, from day to day, through the remainder 
this week. He preached several times this week to 
Indians; and there appeared still some concern am 
them for their souls. 

Jan. 9, 1745.—“ In the morning God was pleased to 
remove that gloom which has of late oppressed my 
mind, and gave me freedom and sweetness in prayer 
I was encouraged, strengthened, and enabled to pleat 
for grace myself, and mercy for my poor Indians,; ai 
was sweetly assisted in my intercessions with God f 
others. Blessed be his holy name for ever and ever 


Amen, and Amen. Those,things that of late have ap 
/ 


1745.) 2 *-s AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 121 


peared most difficult and almost impossible, now ap- 
peared not only possible, but easy. My soul so much 
delighted to continue instant in prayer, at this blessed — 
season, that I had no desire for my necessary food: I 
leven dreaded leaving off praying at all, lest I should 
lose this spirituality, and this blessed thankfulness to 
God which I then felt. I felt now quite willing to live, 
and undergo all trials that might remain for me ina 
world of sorrow; but still longed for heaven, that I 
night glorify God ina perfect manner. ‘O come, Lord 
Jesus, come quickly.’ : 

| Lord's day y, Feb. 3.—“ In the morning I was some- 
what relieved of that gloom and confusion with which 
my mind has of late been greatly exercised ; and was 
bnabled to pray with some composure oat comfort. 
Still I went to my Indians trembling; but God was 
sleased to hear my cries, and to afford me great assis- 
lance; so that I felt peace in my own soul; and was 
jatisfied, that if not one of the Indians should be pro- 
ited by my preaching, but they should all be damned, 
yet I should be accepted and rewarded as faithful ; in 
| am persuaded, God enabled me to be so. Had some 
rood degree of help afterward at another place; and 
inuch longed for the conversion of the poor Indians.” 
' On the next Sabbath he preached at Greenwich, in 
New-Jersey. In the evening he rode eight miles to 
tisit a sick man at the point of death. and found him 
peechless and senseless. 

| Feb. 11.—“ About the break of day the sick man 
lied. I was affected at the sight; spent the morning 
vith the mourners; and after prayer and some dis- ~ 
/ourse with them, returned to Greenwich, and preached 
gain from Baalin 89:15. The Lord gave me some 
ssistance I felt a sweet love to souls. and, to the. 


| 11 Brainerd. 
| 


122 LIFE OF BRAINERD. 


kingdom of Christ ; and longed that poor sinners 
‘know the joyful sound,’ Several persons were m 
affected. After meeting, I was enabled to discou 
with freedom and concern, to some persons who @ 
plied to me under spiritual trouble. Left the 
sweetly composed, and rode home to my house a 
eight miles distant. Discoursed to friends, and iuet 
cated divine truths upon some. In the evening wa 
the most solemn frame which I almost ever remem 
to have experienced. I know not that ever death aj 
peared more real to me, or that ever I saw myself it 
the condition of a dead corpse, laid out, and dressed fo 
a lodging in the silent grave, so evidently as at thi 
time. And yet I felt exceedingly tranquil ; my min 
was composed and calm, and death appeared withou 
a sling. I think I never felt such an universa 
mortification to all created objects as now. O, hoy 
great and solemn a thing it appeared to die! O, hay 
it lays the greatest honor in the dust! And O, he 
vain and trifling did the riches, honors, and pleasure 
‘ of the world appear! I could not, I dare not so muél 
as think of any of them; for death, death appeared a 
| thedoor. O,I could see myself dead, and laid on 
and inclosed in my coffin, and put down into the col 
grave, with the greatest solemnity, but without terror 
I spent most of the evening in conversing with ad 
Christian friend. Blessed be God forthe comforts 0 
the past day. ; 
Feb. 15.—“ Was engaged in writing almost th 
whole day. In the evening was much assisted 
meditating on that precious text, John, 7:37. ‘ Jesu 
stood and cried,’ &c. I had then a sweet sense of # 
free grace of the gospel ; my soul was encouraged. 
warmed, and quickened. My desires were drawn ¢ 


ID, 
‘ « 


ek ' 
sy # 


| r — "ti 
145.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 123 


after God in prayer; and my soul was watchful, afraid 
of losing such a guest as I then entertained. I con- 
tinued long in prayer and meditation, intermixing one 
with the other; and was unwilling to be diverted by 
any thing at all from so sweet an exercise. I longed 
to proclaim the grace I then meditated upon, to the 
world of sinners. O how quick and power rful is the 
word of the blessed God. 

| Lord’s day y, Feb. 17.—“ Preached to the while people 
(my interpreter being absent, ] in the wilderness, upon 
the sunny side of 4 hill; had a considerable assembly, 
consisting of people who lived, at least many of them, 

not less than thirty miles deities some of them came 
neat twenty miles. I discoursed ts them all day, from 
John, 7:37. ‘Jesus stood and cried, saying, that ifany 
man thirst,’ &c. In-the afternoon, it pleased God to 
zrant me great freedom and ferveney inmy discourse; 
ind I was enabled to imitate the example of Christ in 
the text, who stood and cried. I think I was scarce 
aver enabled to exhibit the free grace of God to perish- 
ng sinners with more freedom and plainness in my 
iife. Afterward, I was enabled earnestly to invite the 
*hildren of Goa to come renewedly, and drink of this 
fountain of the water of life, from whence they have 
heretofore derived unspeakable satisfaction. It wasa 
tery comfortable time tome. There were many tears 
n the assembly ; and I doubt not but that the Spirit of 
xod was there, convincing poor sinners of their need 
if Christ. In the evening I felt composed and com- 
ortable, though much tired. I had some sweet sense 
\f the excellency and glory of God; my soul rejoiced 

hat he was ‘God over all, blessed ‘0 ever ;’ but was 

00 much crowded with company and conversation, 

‘nd longed to be more alone with God. - O that I could 


ky 


| ; 


at 


Ws 7 | 


a | 
124 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Vi 


for ever bless God for the mercy of this day, wh« 
‘answered me in the joy of my heart.’ * 
Lord’s day, Feb. 24.—* In the morning was muel 
perplexed. My iterpreter being absent, I knew no 
how to perform my work among the Indians. How 
ever, I rode to them, got a Dutchman to interpret fo 
me, though he was but poorly qualified for the business 
Afterward I came and preached to a few white peo 
from John, 6 : 67. Here the Lord seemed to unburder 
me in some measure, especially toward the close of my 
discourse: I felt freedom to open the love of Christ t 
his own dear disciples. When the rest of the work 
forsake him, and are forsaken by him, he then turns t 
his own, and says, Will ye also go away? I had + 
sense of the free grace of Christ 1o his own people, ir 
such seasons of general apostacy, and when they them 
selves in some measure backslide with the world. @ 
the free grace of Christ, that he seasonably remind: 
his people of their danger of backsliding, and invites 
them to persevere in their adherence to himself! I saw 
that backsliding souls, who seemed to be about to go 
away with the world, might return, and be welcome 
to him immediately ; without any thing to recommend 
them ; notwithstanding all their former backslidings, 
Thus my discourse was suited to my own soul’s case 
for of late, I have found a great want of this sense a 
apprehension of divine grace; and have often been 
greatly distressed in my own soul, because I did 
suitably apprehend this fountain opened to purge a 
sin; and have been too much laboring for inl 
‘ife, peace of conscience, and progressive holiness, in 
my own strength. Now God showed me, in some 
measure, the arm of all strength, and the fountain 
all grace. In the evening, I felt solemn, resting on 


1745.] AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 125 


free grace for assistance, acceptance, and peace of 
conscience. : 

March 6.—“ Spent most of the day in preparing for 
ja journey to New-England; and sometime in prayer 
‘with a special reference to it. Was afraid I should 
fareake the Fountain of living waters, and attempt to 
derive satisfaction from broken cisterns, my dear 
friends and acquaintance, whom I might meet in my 
journey. I looked to God to keep me from this vanity 
as well as others. Toward night, and in the evening, 
was visited by some friends, some of whom I trust were 
real Christians ; who discovered an affectionate regard 
to me, and peemed grieved that I was about to leave 
them; especially as I did not expect to make any con- 
Biderable stay among them, if I should live to return.* 
‘0 how kind has God been to me! how he has raised 
‘up friends in every place where his providence has 
palled me! Friends are a great comfort; and it is 
God who gives them; itis He who makes them friendly 
‘0 me. ‘Bless the Ban my soul, and forget not all 
jis benefits.’ ” ' 
| The next day he set out on his journey; and it was 
about five weeks before he-returned. The special de- 
sign of this journey, he himself declares afterward, 
)mhis diary for March 21, where, speaking of his con- 
versing with a certain minister in New-England, he 
iays, “Contrived with him how to raise some money 
umong Christian friends, in order tosupport a colleague 
vith me in the wilderness, (I having now spent two 
years in a very solitary manner, ) that we might be to- 
meee as Christ sent out his disciples two and two- 


| | *It seems by what atteraanl appears, that he had a design 
bo remove and live among the Indians on Mle Susquehanna 


iver. 
11* 


126 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ol 


and as this was the principal concern I had in view, 
taking this journey, so I took pains in it, and hope 
will succeed it, if for. his glory.” He first went int 
various parts of New-Jersey, and visited several mi 
ters there; then went to New-York; and from th 
into New-England, going to various parts of Connee 
ticut. He then returned to New-Jersey, and met a num 
ber of ministers at Woodbridge, “ who,” he says “ met 
there to consult about the affairs of Christ’s kingdom.” 
He seems, for the most part, to have been free io 
melancholy in this journey; and many times to hay 
had extraordinary assistance in public ministratio: 
and his preaching was sometimes attended with ve 
hopeful appearances of a good effect on the auditory, 
He also had many seasons of special comfort and a 


tual refreshment, in conversation with ministers 
other Christian friends, and also in meditation 
prayer when alone. - - 

April 13.—“Rode home to ‘my own house at the 
Forks of Delaware; was enabled to remember the good+ 
ness of the Lord, whe has now preserved me while fi- 
ding full six frundred miles in this journey; and kept 
me that noneof my bones have been broken. Blessed 
be the Lord, who has preserved me in this tedious jour 
ney, and returned me in safety to my own housé, 
Verily it 1s God who has phere me, and guarded my 
goings. 

Lord’s day, April 14—“Was disordered in bo¢ 
with the fatigues of the late journey; but was enabled 
however to preach to a considerabjé assembly of whi 
people, gathered from all parts round about, with some 
freedom, from Ezek. 33:11. ‘As I live saith the Lord, 
&c. Had much more assistance than I expected.” — 

This week he went a journey to Philadelphia, in o1 


1745.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 127 


jer to engage the Governor to use his interest with 
the chief of the Six Nations, with whom he maintain- 
ed a strict friendship, that- he would give him leave to 
ive at Susquehanna, and instruct the Indians who are 
within their territories. 

. April 26.—“Conversed with a Christian friend with 
jome warmth; and felt a spirit of mortification to the 
world» in a very great degree. Afterward,: was en- 
sbled to pray fervently, and to rely on God sweetly, 
or ‘all things pertaining to life and godliness.’ Just 
nm the evening, was visited by a dear Christian friend, 

vith whom I spent an hour or two in conversation, on 
he very soul of religion. There are many with when 
| can talk about religion; but alas! I find few with 
vhom I can talk religion itself; but, blessed be the 
Lord there are some that love to feed on the kernel, 
iather than the shell. 

April 30.—“ Was scarce able to walk about, and was 
ibliged to betake myself to bed much of the day; and 
yassed away the time in a very solitary manner; being 
jeither able to read, meditate, nor pray, and had none 
0 converse with in this wilderness. O how heavily 
joes time pass.away whenI can do nothing to any 
tood purpose; but seem obliged to trifle away precious 
ime! But of late I have seen it my duty to divert 
nyself by all lawful means, that I may be fit, at least 
‘ome small part of my time, to labor for God. And 
sere is the difference between my present diversions, 
nd those I once pursued, when in a natural state. 
[hen I made a God of my diversions, delighted in 
jhem with a neglect of God, and drew my highest sa- 
‘isfaction from them. Now I use them as means to 
1elp me in living to God; fixedly delighting in him, 
ind not in them, drawing my highest satisfaction from 


| 


128 LIFE OF BRAINERD. _—_ [C1 


him. Then they were my all; now they are 
means leading to my all. yer those things that i 
the greatest diversion, when pursued with this view, 
do not tend to hinder, but promote my spirituali 
and I see now, more than ever, that they are absolute 
necessary. ;, — 
May 2.—“In the evening, being a little better in 
health, I walked into the woods, and enjoyed q swe 
season of meditation and prayer. My thoughts 
upon Psalm 17: 15. ‘I shall be satisfied, when 1 awake 
with thy likeness.’ And it was indeed a precious te 
tome. I longed to preach to the whole world; andi 
seemed to me they must needs all be melted in he 
ing such precious divine truths as I then had a vie} 
of. My thoughts were exceeding clear, and my, SC 
was refreshed. Blessed be the Lord, that in my lak 
and present weakness, now for many days togetl 
my mind is not gloomy, as at some other times. 
May 7.—“ Spent the day mainly in making prepara 
tion for a journey into the wilderness. Was still we 
and concerned how I should perform so difficult ajo 
ney; but wanted bodily strength to spend the day i 
fasting and prayer.” "i 
The next day he set out on his journey to the § 
quehanna, with his interpreter. He endured great ha 
ships and fatigues in his way thither through the 
derness ; where, after having lodged one night in 
open woods, he was overtaken with a north-easte 
storm, in which he was ready to perish. Having 
manner of shelter, and not being able to make a f 
so great a rain, he could have no comfort if he stopped 
he therefore determined to go forward in hope 
meeting with some shelter, without which he tho 
it impossible to live the night through ; but their hor 


4 


145.) JOURNEY TO SUSQUEHANNA. 129° 


tappening to eat poison, for the want of other food, at 
| place where they lodged the night before, were so 
ick that they could neither ride nor lead them, but 
ei obliged to drive them and travel on foot; until, 
hrough the mercy of God, just at dusk they came to 
bark hut, where they lodged that night. After he 
‘ame to-the Susquehanna he traveled about a hundred 
uiles on the river, and visited many towns and settle- 
aents of the Indians; saw some of seven or eight 
tribes, and preached to different nations, by different 
aterpreters. He was sometimes much discouraged, 
ind sunk in his spirits, through the opposition which 
‘ppeared in the Indians to Christianity. At other times 
‘e vas encouraged by the disposition which some of 
hese people manifested to hear, and their willingness 
3 be instrueted. He here met with some who had 
brmerly been his hearers at Kaunaumeek, and had 
anes hither ; who saw and heard him again with 
‘reat joy. Hespent a fortnight among the Indians on , 
his river, and passed through many labors and hard- 
‘hips, lodging on the ground for several weeks, and 
‘ometimes in the open air. At length he became ex- 
/remely ill, as he was riding in the wilderness, being 
/eized with an ague, followed with a burning fever 
nd extreme pains in his head and bowels, attended 
vith a great evacuation of blood ; so that he thought 
\e must have perished in the wilderness. But at last 
‘oming to an Indian trader’s hut, he got leave to stay 
here; and though without physic or food proper for 
iim, it pleased God, after about a week’s distress, to 
‘elieve him so far that he was able to ride. He re- 
urned homeward from Juncauia, an island far down 
| hhe river, where were a considerable number of Indians, 
vho appeared more free from prejudices against Chris- 


> 


Le aoe 
: 4 ’ . 
‘ 


130 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Lowel 


tianity than most of the other Indians; and arrived 
the Forks of Delaware on Thursday, May 30; a 
having rode in this journey about three hundred a 
forty miles. He came home in a very week state, a 
under dejection of mind; which was a great hindrai 
to him in religious exercises. However, on the Sab 
bath, after having preached to the Indians, he preache 
to the white people with some success, from Isaiah 
53:10. “ Yet it pleased the-Lord to bruise him,” & 
some being awakened by his preaching. The nex 
day he was much exercised for want of spiritual li 
and fervency. 

June 5.—“ Felt thirsting desires after God, in th 
morning. In the evening, enjoyed a precious seasol 
of retirement: was favored with some clear and swe 
meditations upon a sacred text; divine things opene 
with clearness and certainty, and had a divine sta 
upon them. My soul was also enlarged and refreshe 
in prayer ; I delighted to continue in the duty ; end w 
sweetly assisted in praying for my fellow Christians 
and dear brethren in the ministry. Blessed be the de 
Lord for such enjoyments. O how sweet and precion 
it is to have a clear apprehension and tender sense @ 
the mystery of godliness, of true holiness, and of li 
ness to the best of beings! O what a blessedness iti 
to be as much like God as it is possible for a creatm 
to be like his great Creator! Lord give me more of th 
likeness ; ‘I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with it?’ 

On Friday, June 7, he went a journey of near fill 
miles, to Neshaminy, to assist at a sacramental occasion 
to be attended at Mr. Beatty’s meeting-house ; being in 
vited thither by him and his people. ‘ 

June 8.—“ Was exceedingly weak and fatigued 
riding in the heat yesterday; but being desi 


745.) AT NESHAMINY. 131 


reached in the afternoon, to a crowded audience, 
‘om Isaiah, 40: 1. ‘Comfort ye, comfort ye my 
eople, saith your God.’ ‘God was pleased to give me 
reat freedom, in opening the sorrows of his people, 
nd in setting before them comforting considerations. 
nd, blessed be the Lord, it was a sweet melting season 
a the assembly. 

_ Lord’s day, June 9.—“ Felt some longing desires of 
ae presence of God to be with his people on the 
nlemn occasion of the day. In the forenoon Mr. 
eatty preached ; and there appeared some warmth in 
ae assembly. Afterward, I assisted in the administra- 
ion of the Lord’s supper: and toward the close of it, 

'discoursed to the multitude extempore, with some 
sference to that sacred passage, Isaiah,53: 10. ‘Yet 

| pleased the Lord to bruise him.’ Here God gave me 
reat assistance in addressing sinners: and the word 
ras attended with amazing power: many scores, if 
ot hundreds, in that great assembly, consisting oi 
aree or “ve thousand, were much affected; so that 
.ere was a ‘very great mourning, like the mourning 
f Hadadrimmon.’ 

_ June 10.—* Preached with a good degree of clear- 
less and some sweet warmth from Psalm 17: 15. ‘I 
hall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness.’ 

.nd blessed be God, there was a great solemnity, and 
tention in the assembly, and sweet refreshment 
mong God’s people; as was evident then and af- 
arward. 

June 11.—“ Spent the day mainly in conversation 
vith dear Christian friends ; and enjoyed some sweet 
onse of divine things. O iow desirable it is to keep 
ompany with God’s dear children ! ‘These are the ex- 
ellent ones of the earth,’ in whom, I can truly say - 


132 > BRAT 
‘is all my delight © what delight will it afford, 
meet ae in a state of perfection ! Lord pre; 


me for that state, 
June 18.--“ Set out from New-Brunswick with a 
sign to visit some Indians at a place called Cressi 

_ sung, in New-Jersey, toward the sea. In the afternoo) 
' came to a place called Cranberry, and meeting will 
serious minister, Mr. Macknight, I lodged there » 
him. Had some enlargement and freedom in praye 
with a number of people.” 


CHAPTER VII.. 


Being part 1st of his public journal of “the Rise and Progr 
a remarkable work of grace among the Indians in New-J 
and Pennsylvania, kept by order of the Society in Scotlar 
propagating Christian knowledge.”— Commencement of hiss 


weeksung.—Outpouring of the spirit.—Visit to the Forks 
Delaware and the Susquehanna.—A Powaw.—A Conjurer 
newal of labor at Crossweeksungs—Remarks on the worl 
Divine Grace, 


June 19.—Nov. 5, 1745. . 


[We are now come to that part of Brainerd’s | 
when he had the greatest suecess in his labors for th 
good of souls, and in his particular business as a 1 

~ sionary to the Indians. After all his agonizing in p 
and travailing in birth for their conversion—his ra 
hopes and expectations, disappointments and | 

_. ragements; after panting in a way of persevering p 
labor, and suffering, as it were through a long” 
at length the day dawns: “Weeping continues f 


ae ; i 


745. ¢ AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 133 


ight, but joy comes in the morning.” He went forth 
veeping, “ bearing precious seed,” but now he comes 
with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.” The 
lesired event is brought to pass at last; but at a time, 
1a place, and upon subjects, that scarce ever entered 
is heart.] 


¢ ae 

ps Crossweeksung, in New-Jersey, June i7, 1745. 
| Jyne 19.—“ [had spent most of my time for more than 
year past among the Indians at the Forks of Dela- 
‘are, in Pennsylvania. During that time I made two 
purnies to the Susquehanna, to treat with the Indians on 
aat river respecting Christianity ; and not having had 
my considerable appearance of special success in either 
f those places, my spirits were depressed, and I was 
ob a little discouraged. Hearing that there were a 
‘umber of Indians ata place called Crossweeksung, in 
Jew-. ersey, nearly eighty miles south east’ from the 
of Delaware, I deteymined to make them a visit, 


‘orks 
ind see what might be. déne toward. christianizing 

jem ; and accordingly arrived among them this day. 
|| “I found very few personsat the place I visited, and 

erceived that the Indians in these parts were very 

/auch ‘scattered. There were not more than two. or 
aree families in a place; and these small settlements 
rere six, ten, fifieen, twenty, or thirty miles, and some. 
hore from that place. However, I preached to. those 

»w I found ; who appeared well disposed, serious and 

ttentive, and not inclined to cavil and object, as the 

indians had done elsewhere. When I had concluded 

ay discourse, I informed them (there being none but 

_ few women and children) that I would willingly 

isit them again the next day. Whereupon they 

-eadily set out and traveled ten or fifteen miles, in- 
| ies 2 ht * ‘Brainerd. 


H 


- 
es re 


a 


| vie % y Ps 3 hin ayy 


134 LIFE OF BRAINERD: [Chap. 


order to give notice to some of their friends at th 
distance. ‘These women, like the woman of Samar 
seemed desirous that others should see the man wh 
had told them what they had done in their past lives 
and the misery that attended their idolatrous ways. 

June 20.—“ Visited and preached to the India 
again as I proposed. Numbers were gathered at 
invitations of their friends, who had heard me the¢ 
before. These also appeared as attentive, orderly @ 
well disposed, as the others: and none made any objec 
tions, as Indians in other places have usually done, 

June 22.—“ Preached to the Indians again. The 
number, which at first consisted of seven or eight p 

-sons, was now increased to nearly thirty. There ve 
not only asolemn attention among them, but some col 
siderable impression, it was apparent, was made up 
their minds by divine truth. Some began to feel th 
misery, and perishing state, and appeared concerfi 
for a deliverance from it. 

Lord’s day, June 23.—Preached to the Indians, 
spent the day with them. Their number still increas 
and all with one consent, seemed to rejoice in f 
coming among them. Nota word of opposition w 
heard from any of them against Christianity, althoug 
in times past they had been as much opposed toa 
thing of that nature as any Indians whatsoever. 
of them, not many months before, were enraged 
my Interpreter because he attempted to teach th 
something of Christianity. 

June %4.— Preached to the Indians at their desit 
and upon their own motion. To see poor Pagans: i 
sirous of hearing the gospel of Christ, animated me | 
discourse to them; although I was now very wea 
and my spirits much exhausted. They attended with’ 


¥ 


‘745. AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. - 135 


*reatest seriousness and diligence ; and some concern 
or their soul’s salvation was apparent among them. 
_ June 27.—“ Visited and preached to the Indians 
gain. eir number now amounted to about forty 
‘ersons. Their solemnity and attention still continued, 
ind a considerable concern for their souls became very 
parent among numbers of them. 
| June 28.—“ The Indians being now gathered, a con- 
\derable number of them, from their several and dis- 
nt habitations, requested me to preach twice a day to 
1em ; being desirous to hear as much as they possibly 
ba while 1 was with them. I cheerfully complied 
ith their request, and could not but admire the good- 
of God, who I was persuaded had inclined them 
hus to inquire after the way of salvation. 
| June 29.—“ Preached twice to the Indians. Saw, as 
thought, the hand of God very evidently, and in a 
janner somewhat remarkable, making provision for 
ieir subsistence together, in order to their being in- 
lructed in divine things; for this day, and the day 
before, with only walking a little way from the place 
f our daily meeting, they killed three deer, which 
‘ere a seasonable supply for their wants, and without 
thich, they could not have subsisted together in order 
) attend the means of grace. 
| Lord’s day, June 30.—“ Preached twice this day also. 
‘bserved-yet more concern and affection among the 
Dor heathen than ever; so that they even constrained 
'e to tarry yet ionger with them, although my consti- 
tion was exceedingly worn out, and my health much 
apaired by my late fatigues and labors; and espe- 
lally by my late journey to the Susquehanna in May 
ist, in which I lodged on the ground for several 
eeks together. , ; 
| . 


: 


ery 


« 


136 LIFE OF BRAINERD. » { Chap. 


July 1.—* Preached again twice to a very seri¢ 
and attentive assembly of Indians; they having 
learned to attend on the worship of God with C 
tian decency in all respects. There were now bet 
forty and fifty persons of them present, old and you 
{,spent a considerable time in discoursing with t 
in a more private way} inquiring of them what 
remembered of the great truths which had been tau 
them from day to day; and may justly say, it 
amazing to see how they had received and retai 
the instructions given them, and what a measure 
knowledge some of them had acquired in a few ds 

July 2.—* Was obliged to leave these Indians % 
Crossweeksung, thinking it my duty, as soon as he 
would admit, again to visit those at the Forks of D 
ware. When I came to take leave of them, and 
speak particularly to each of them, they all earne: 
inquired when I would come again, and expresset 
great desire of being further instructed. Of their « 
accord they agreed, that, when I should come ag 
they would all meet and live together during my ¢ 
tinuance with them ; and that they would use thei 
most endeavors to gather all the other Indian 
these parts who were yet more remote. Whe 
parted from them, one told me, with many tears, * 
wished God would change her heart;? another, t 
‘she wanted to find Christ ; and an old man who 
been one of their chiefs, wept bitterly with concert 
his soul. I then promised them to return as speedil 
as my health and business elsewhere would perm 
and felt not a little concern at parting, lest Z0 
impressions, then apparent upon numbers of ther 
might decline and wear off, when the means came 
cease. Yet I could not but hope, that He, who 


1745] , AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 137 


trusted had begun a good work among them, and who 
{ knew did not stand in need of means to carry it on, 
would mantain and promote it. At the same time, I 
must confess, that I had often seen encouraging ap- 
oearances among the Indians elsewhere, prove wholly 
abortive, and it appeared that the favor would be too 
jreat, if God should now, after I had passed through 
50 considerable a series of almost fruitless labors and 
‘atigues, and after my rising hopes had been so oftcn 
hmstrated among these poor pagans, give me any spe- 
vial success in my labors with them, I could not be- 
lieve, and scarcely dared to hope, that the event would 
pe so happy; and scarcely ever found myself more 
suspended between hope and fear in any affair, or at 
hny time, than in this. 

| “This encouraging disposition, and readiness to re- 
teive instruction, now apparent among the Indians, 
leems to have been the happy effect of the conviction 
which one or two of them met with, some time since, 
tthe Forks of the Delaware; who have since endea- 
rored to show their friends the evil of idolatry. Though 
he other Indians seemed but little to regard, and rather 
‘o-deride them; yet this, perhaps, has put them into a 
hinking posture of mind, or at least given them some 
houghts about Christianity, and excited in some of 
hem a curiosity to hear ; and so made way for the pre- 
‘ent encouraging attention. An apprehension that this 
night be the case here, has given me encouragement 
that God may, in such a manner, bless the means which 
| have used with the Indians in other places ; where, 
\s si ret there i is no appearance of it. Ifso, may his name 
iave the ‘glory of it; for I have learnt, by experience, 
ihat he only can open the ear, engage the attention, 
| B. 12* 5 } : 


ay 


. | 
138 LIFE OF BRAINERD. , [Chop. Vi 


and incline the hearts of poor benighted, Pre} dic 
paganyy to receive instruction.” ; 


Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Jay 1745, 


Lord’s day, July 14.—“ Discoursed to the Indian 
twice. Several of them appeared concerned, and were 
{ have reason to think, in some measure convinced, 
the Divine Spirit, of their sin and misery ; so that they 
wept much the whole time of divine service. Afi 
ward discoursed to a number of white people 
present. a 

July 18.—“ Preached to my people, who attendedd 
ligently beyond what had been common among th est 
Indians; and some of them appeared concerned 
their souls. 

Lord’s day, July 21.—* Preached to the Indians first 
then to a number of white people present; and in t 
afternoon to the Indians again. Divine truth seemé 
to make very considerable impressions upon several ¢ 
them, and caused the tears to flow freely. : 

“ On this day my interpreter and his wife publi 0 
professed their faith in Christ, being the first hopefu 
converts among the Indians. ‘Ihey have both bee 
awakened to a solema concern for their souls; have, ti 
appearance, been brought to a sense of their miset 
and undoneness in themselves; have both appeared i 
be comforted with divine consolations ; and it is ap 
parent that both have passed a great, and I cannot bu 
hope, a saving change. 

“Tt may perhaps be satisfactory and agreeable, tha 
should give some BRIEF RELATION OF THIS MAN’S E 
CISES AND EXPERIENCE since he has been with me; 
pecially since he is employed as my irra 
others. When I first employed him in this busines 


: 


745.) CONVERSION OF BIS INTERPRETER. 139 


nm the beginning of the summer of 1744, he was well 
itted for his work, in regard to his acquaintance with 
he Indian and English languages, as well as with the 
manners of both nations; and in respect to his desire 
hat the Indians should conform to the manners and 
ustoms of the English, and especially to their manner 
f living. But he seemed to have little or no impres- 
ion of religion upon his mind, and in that respect was 
‘ery unjit for his work ; being incapable of understand . 
og and communicating to others many things of im- 
ortance, so that I labored under great disadvantages 
n addressing the Indians, for want of his having an 
ixperimental, as well as more doctrinal acquaintance 
vith divine truths ; and, at times, my spirits sunk, and 
| was much discouraged under this difficulty; espe- 
jially when I observed that divine truth made little or 
0 impression upon his mind for many weeks toge- 
her. He indeed behaved soberly after I employed 
‘im ; although before he had been a hard drinker, and 
eemed honestly engaged, as far as he was capable. in 
he performance of his work. Especially he appeared 
jery desirous that the Indians shouid renounce their 
xeathenish notions and practices, and conform to the 
lustoms of the Christian world. But still he seemed 
o have no concern about his own soul, until he had 
‘een with me a considerable time. 

“ Near the latter end of July, 1744, I preached to an 
issembly of white people, with more freedom and fer- 
vency than I could possibly address the Indians with, 
vithout their having first obtained a greater measure 
»f doctrinal knowledge. At this time he was present, 
ind was somewhat awakened to a concern for his soul; 
o that the next day he discoursed freely with me 
ibout his spiritual concerns, and gave me an opportu- 


| 
140 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Wi 


-He thought if he could but make his way throug] 


nity to use further endeavors to fasten the impress 
of his perishing state upon his mind. I could plainh 
perceive, for some time after this, that he addresse 
the Indians with more concern and fervency thai 
had formerly done. 

“But these impressions seemed quickly to declin 
and he remained in a great measure careless and se 
cure, until some time late in the autumn of the 
following ; when he fell into a weak and languishin, 
state of body, and continued much disordered for seve 
ral weeks tugether. At this season divine truth too! 
hold of him, and made deep impressions upon his mimi 
He was brought under great concern for his soul ; ait 
his exercises were not now transient and unsteady, bu 
constant and abiding, so that his mind was burden 
from day to day; and it was now his great inquil 
‘What he should do to be saved? This spiri 
trouble prevailed, until his sleep in a great measu 
departed from him, and he had little rest day or nigh 
but walked about under great pressure of mind, for hi 
was still able to walk, and appeared like another ma 
to his neighbors, who could not but observe his bel 
vior with wonder. After he had been some time unde 
this exercise, while he was striving to obtain merey 
he says there seemed to be an impassable mounta 
before him. He was pressing toward heaven, as it 
thought ; but ‘his way was hedged up with thorns, § 
that he could not stir an inch further.’ He looke 
this way, and that way, but could find no way at all 


these thorns and briers, and climb up the first steg 
pitch of the mountain, that then there might be hap 
for him; but no way or means could he find to 
complish this. Here he labored for a time, but all 


| 
'745.] CONVERSION OF HIS INTERPRETER. 141 


‘ain. He savy it was impossible, he says, for him ever 
o help himself through this insupportable difficulty— 
Tt signified just nothing at all for him to struggle and 
trive any more.’ Here, he says, he gave over striving, 
nd felt that it was a gone case with him as to his own 
sower, and that all his attempts were, and for ever 
yould be, vain and fruitless; Yet he was more calm 
nd composed under this view of things, than he had 
een while striving to help himself. 
| “While he was giving me this account of his exer- 
ises, I was not without fears that what he related was 
wut the working of his own imagination, and not the 
iffect of any divine illumination of mind. But before 
_ had time to discover my fears, he added, that at this 
ime he felt himself in a miserable and perishing con- 
ition ; that he saw plainly what he had beert doing all 
iis days; and that he had ‘ never done one good thing,’ 
is he expressed it. He knew he was not guilty of some 
vicked actions of which he knew some others guilty. 
Je had not been accustomed to steal, quarrel, and 
aurder ; the latter of which vices are common among 
he Indians. He likewise knew that he had done many 
ings that were right; he had been kind to his neigh- 
int &c. Butstill his cry was, that ‘he had never done 
ne good thing ; meaning that he had never done any 
hing from a right principle, and with aright view. 
‘And now I thought,’ said he, ‘ that I must sink down 
o hell; that there was no hope for me, becduse I 
iever could do any thing that was good: and if God 
et me alone ever so long, and I should try ever so 
uch, still I should do nothing but what is bad.’ 
| “ This further account of his exercises satisfied me 
hat it was not the mere working of his imagination, 
ince he appeared so evidently to die to himself, and 


} 
| 


| 


142 LIFE OF’ BRAINERD. [Chap. vn 


to be divorced from a dependence upon his own righ 
ousness and good deeds, to which mankind in a fi 
state are so much attached, and upon which they 
so ready to hope for salvation. ; 

“There was one thing more in his view of thing 
at this time, which was very remarkable. He not only 
saw,'he says, what a miserable state he himself was im) 
but he likewise saw that the world around him, in gem 
eral, were in the same perishing circumstances, not 
withstanding the profession whieh many of them madi 
of christianity, and the hope which they entertained @ 
obtaining everlasting happiness. This he saw clearly 
‘as if he was now waked out of sleep, or had a cloud 
taken from his eyes. He saw that the life which he 
had lived was the way to eternal death, that he wat 
now on the brink of endless misery; and when he 
jJooked around he saw multitudes of others, who ha¢ 
lived the same life with hin self, persons who had ne 
more goodness than he, and yet dreamed that they 
were safe enough, as he had formerly done. He wai 
fully persuaded, by their conversation and behavior, 
that they had never felt their sin and misery, as he 
now felt his. 

“After he had been for's some time in this conti on 
sensible of the impossibility of helping himself by any 
thing he could do, or of being delivered by any created 
arm; so that he had ‘given up all for lost,’ as to hii 
own attempts; and was become more calm and com- 
posed; then, he says, it was borne in upon his mind, a 
if it had been audibly spoken to him, ‘There is hope, 
there is hope.’. Whereupon his soul seemed to re! 
and be in some measure satisfied, though he had 


Al 


considerable joy. “a 
“He cannot here remember distinctly any ew 


at. P 


745.) CONVERSION OF HIS INTERPRETER. 143 


ad of Christ, or give any clear account of his soul’s 
eceptance of him, which makes his experience appear 
ae more doubtful, and renders it less satisfactory to 
imself and others than it might be if he could remem- 
er distinctly the apprehensions and actings of his - 
aind at this season. But these exercises of soul were 
itended and followed with a very great change in the 
jan; so that it might justly be said he was become 
nother man, if not a new man. His conversation and 
eportment were much altered ; and even the careless 
rorld could not but wonder what had befallen him, to 


yake so great a change in his temper, discourse, and 


ehavior. Especially there was a surprising alteration 


-nhis public performances. He now addressed the In- 


jans with admirable fervency, and scarcely knew 
then to leave off. Sometimes, when I had concluded 
ay discourse and was returning homeward, he would 
srry behind to repeat and inculcate what had been 
poken. 

| “His change is abiding, and his life, so far as I know, 
mblemished to this day; though it is now more than 
ix months since he experienced this change; in which 
pace of time he has been as much exposed to strong 
rink as possible, in divers places where it has been 
noving as free as water; and yet has never, that I 
‘now of, discovered any hankewne desire after it. He 
eems to have a very considerable experience of spirt- 
nal exercise, and discourses feelingly of the conflicts 
md consolations of a real Christian. His heart echoes 


> the soul-humbling doctrines of grace, and he never 


ppears better pleased than when he hears of the ab- 
olute sovereignty of God, aud the salvation of sinners 
away of mere free grace. He has lately had also 
pase satisfaction respecting his own state. and: has... 


7 
14 . LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 


been much enlightened and assisted in his work; 
that he has been a great comfort to me. ‘ 

“ After a strict observation of his serious and savo 
conversation, his christian temper, and unblemish 
behavior for such a length of time, as well as his ¢ 
perience, of which I have given an account; I 
that I have reason to hope that he is ‘created anew 
Christ Jesus to good works.’ His name is Mosrs 
pa Fauraury. He is about fifty years of age, a 

retty well acquainted with the pagan notions and ev 
fins of his countrymen ; and so is the better able ne 
_ toexpose them. He has, I am persuaded, already be 
and I trust will yet be, a blessing to the other Indiat 

July 23.—“ Preached to the Indians, but had 
hearers: Those who are constantly at home, se 
late, to be under some impressions of a religious na 

July 30.—“Discoursed to a number of my peop 
and gave them some partieular advice and directio 
being now about to leave them for the present, in 
der to renew my visit to the Indians in New-Je 
They were very attentive tomy discourse, and earn 

_ly desirous to know when I designed to return to th 
again.” " 
re 


Crossweeksung, (New-Jersey,) August, 17 


Aug. 3.—“T visited the Indians in these parts in J 
last, and tarried with them a considerable time, pre 
ing almost daily ; at which season God was ple 
pour upon them a spirit of awakening and concern 


the’. souls, and surprisingly to engage their i 


to divine truths. I now found them serious, anda 
ter of them under deep concern for an interest j 
Christ. Their convictions of their sinful and perisi 


745.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 145 


ng state were, in my absence from them, much promo- 
ad by the labors and endeavors of Rev. Wittiam 'TEN- 
‘ent; to whom I had advised them to apply for direc- 
hai; and whose house they frequented much while I 
yas gone. I preached to them this day with some ° 
iew to Rev. 22:17. ‘And whosoever will, let him 
ake of the water of life freely ;’ though I could not 
iretend to handle the subject methodically among 
hem. ‘The Lord, I am persuaded, enabled me, in a 
janner somewhat uncommon, to set before them the 
ord Jesus Christ as a kind and compassionate Savior, 
aviting distressed and perishing sinners to accept ever- 
asting mercy. A surprising concern soon became ap- 
arent among them. There were about twenty adult 
oa together; many of the Indians at remote pla- 


es not having as yet had time to come since my re- 
rn hither; and not above two that I could see with 
ry eyes. 

“Some were much concerned, and discovered vehe- 
ent longings of soul after Christ, to save them from 
e misery they felt and feared. 

| Lord’s day, Aug. 4.—“ Being invited by a neighbor- 

I minister to assist in the administration of the Lord’s 


pper, I complied with. his. request, and took the In-' 
‘ians along with me; not only those who were: togeth- 
r the day before, but many more who were coming to 
year me; £0 that there were nearly fifty in all, old and 
young. They attended the several discourses of the 
lay; and some of them, who could understand English, 
vere much affected; and all seemed to have their con- 
‘ern in some measure raised. 
| “Now a change in their manners began to appear 
rery visible. In the evening, when they came to sup 
ogether they would not taste a morsel until they had 
13 Brainerd. 


| 
| 
| 
| 


146 LIFE OF BRAINERD. lon 


sent to me to come and supplicate a blessing on th 
food; at which time sundry of them wept; especial 
when I reminded them how they had in times past 
their feasts in honor to devils, and neglected to than 
God for them. 
August 5.—“ After a sermon had been preached b 
another minister, I preached, and concluded the publi 
‘work of the solemnity from John, 7: 37; and inm 
discourse addressed the Indians in particular, who 
in a part of the house by themselves; at which tim 
one or two of them were struck with deep concern 
‘they afterward told me, who had been little affecte 
before; and others had their concern increased 
considerable degree. In the evening, the greater pa 
of them being at the house where I lodged, I discourse 
to them, and found them universally engaged abot 
their soul’s concerns; inquiring ‘what they should 
tobe saved.’ All their conversation among themseli 
turned upon religious matters, in which they wer 
assisted by my Interpreter, who was with them da 
and night. 
. “This day there was one woman, who had bee 
much concerned for her soul ever since she first, hear 
me preach in June last, who obtained comfort, I trus 
solid and well grounded. She seemed to be filled wit 
love to Christ. At the same time she behaved humbl 
and tenderly, and appeared afraid of nothing so mue 
as of offending and grieving him whom her soul love 
Aug. 6.—“ In the morning I discoursed to the h 
_ dians at the house where we lodged. Many of thier 
were much affected, and appeared surprisingly tende’ 
80 that a few erisie about the concerns of their sou! 
‘would cause the tears to flow freely, and produce man 
‘ sobs and groans. In the afternoon they being returne 


1743.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 147 


to the place where I had usually preached among 
them, I again discoursed to them there. There were 
about fifty-five persons in all; about forty that were 
rapable of attending Divine service with understand- 
‘ng. Linsisted on 1 John, 4:10. ‘Herein is love. 
&e. They seemed eager of hearing; but there ap. 
peared nothing very remarkable, except their atten- 
on, till near the close of my discourse; and then 
Divine truth was attended with a surprising influence, 
produced a great concern among them. There 
searcely three in forty who could refrain from 
and bitter cries. They all as one seemed in an 
wee of soul to obtain an interest in Christ ; and the 
ore I discoursed of the love and compassion of God 
jn sending his Son to suffer for the sins of men; and 
jhe mare I invited them to come and partake of his 
jove ; the more their distress was aggravated, because 
jhey felt themselves unable to come. It was surprising 
see how their hearts seemed to be pierced with the 
ender and melting invitations of the Gospel, when 
ihere was not a word of terror spoken to them. 
I “There were this day two persons who obtained 
and comfort ; which, when I came to discourse 
with them particularly, appeared solid, rational, and 
jeriptural. After I had inquired into the grounds of 
= comfort, and said many things which I thought 
per tothem ; I asked them what they wanted that 
od should do farther for them? They replied, ‘they 
santed Christ should wipe their hearts quite clean,’ 
¢. So surprising were now the doings of the Lord, 
at I ean say no less of this day, and I need say no 
ore of it, than that the arm gf the Lord was power- 
ually and marvellously revealed in it. 
Aug. 7—* Preached to the Indians from Isaiah, 53: 


iP a 


bd 
148 “LIFE OF BRAINERD; [Chap. Vit 


3-10. There was a remarkable influence att 
the word, and great concern in the assermb‘y ; 
scarcely equal to what appeared the day before, 
1s, Not quite so universal. However, most were 
affected, and many in great distress for their so 
and some few could neither go nor stand, but lay 
on the ground, as if pierced at heart, crying incessa 
for mercy. Several were newly awakened; and} 
was remarkable that as fast as they came from rem 
places round about, the Spirit of God seemed to seize 
them with concern for their souls. After public 
vice was concluded I found two persons more a 
had newly met with comfort, of whom I had 
hopes; and a third of whom I could not but enter 
some hopes, whose case did not appear so clear as the 
others ; so that there were now six in all, who had 
some relief from their spiritual distresses; and 
whose experience appeared very clear and satisfacto 
It is worthy of remark, that those who obtained cot 
fort first were in general deeply affected with con 
for their souls when I preached to them in June | 
Aug. 8.—“ In the afternoon I preached to the 
dians, their number was now about sirty-five perso 
men, women, and children. I discoursed upon Lu 
14 : 16-23, and was favored with uncommon freed 
There was much visible concern among them while] 
was discoursing publicly ; but afterward, when I spol 
to one and another more particularly, whom I p 
ceived under much concern, the power of God see 
to descend upon the assembly ‘like a mighty rush* 
wind, and with an astonishing energy bore down 
before it. I stood amazed at the influence which sei 
the audience almost universally; and could compare 
it to nothing more aptly than the irresistible force of a 


f 


745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 149 


nighty torrent, or swelling deluge, that with its insup- 
sortable weight and pressure bears down and sweeps 
sefore it whatever is in its way. Almost all persons 
if all ages were bowed down with concern together, 
.nd scarcely one was able to withstand the shock of 
his surprising operation. Old men and women who 
jad been drunken wretches for many years, and some 
ttle children not more than six or seven years of age, 
\ppeared in distress for their souls, as well as persons 
of middle age. It was apparent that these children, 
ome of them at least, were not merely frightened with 
eeing the general concern, but were made sensible of 
heir danger, the badness of their hearts, and their 
nisery without Christ, as some of them expressed it. 

The most stubborn ae were now obliged to bow. 
N principal man among the Indians, who before was 
nost secure and self-righteous, and thought his state 
ood, because he knew more fhan the generality of the 
ndians had formerly done ; and who with a great de- 
sree of confidence the day hefore dole: me ‘he had 
yeena Christian more than ten years; ” was now brought 
inder solemn concern for his soul, and wept bitterly. 

\nother man advanced in years, whe had been a mur- 
lerer, a powaw or conjurer, and a notorious drunkard, 

vas likewise brought now to cry for mercy with ma- 
iy tears, and to complain much that he could be no 
‘nore concerned, when he saw his danger so very great. 
| © They were almost universally praying and crying 
or mercy in every part of the house, and many out of 
loors; and numbers could neither go nor stand. 

Their concern was so great, each one for himself, that 
ione seemed to take any notice of those about them, 
yut each prayed freely for himself. I am led to think 
hey were. to their own apprehensions, as muc’ retired, 
BE 13* 


a 


150 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Vl 


as if they had been individually by themselves, in 
thickest desert ; or I believe rather that they though 
about nothing but themselves, and their own sta 
and so were every one praying apart, although all te 
_ gether, It seemed to me that there was now an € 
fulfilment of that prophecy, Zech. 12: 10, 11, 12; 
there was now ‘a great mourning, like the mourn) 
of Hadadrimmon ;—and each seemed to ‘ m 
apari.’? Methought this had a near resemblance to 
day of God’s power, mentioned in Josh. 10: 14; 
must say I never saw any day like it, in all respe 
it was a day wherein I am persuaded the Lord 
much to destroy the kingdom of darkness among 
people. ce 

“ This concern, in general, was most rational an 
just. Those who had been awakened any ene 
time, complained more especially of the badnes: 
their hearts ; and those who were newly awakened, 
the badness of their lives and actions ; and all 
afraid of the anger of God, and of everlasting miser 
as the desert of their sins. Some of the white peop) 
who came out of curiosity to hear what ‘ this babble 
would say’ to the poor ignorant Indians, were mu 
awakened; and some appeared to be wounded with 
view of their perishing state. Those who had latél 
obtained relief, were filled with comfort at this seaso 
They appeared calm and composed, and seemed 
rejoice in Christ Jesus. Some of them too Oa 
tressed friends by the hand, telling them of the gi 
ness of Christ, and the comfort that is to he enjoyed i 
him; and thence invited them to come and give 
their hearts to him. I could observe some of them, | 
the most honest and unaffected manner, without an 
design of being taken notice of, lifting up their ey 


745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 151 


> heaven, as if crying for mercy, while they saw the 
istress of the poor souls around them. There was 
ine remarkable instance of awakening this day which 
formant to notice here. A young Indian woman, 
ho, I believe, never knew before that she had a soul, 
or ever thought of any such thing, hearing that there 
vas something strange among the Indians, came,, it 
»ems, to see what was the matter. In her way to 
he Indians she called at my lodgings; and when I 
old her that I designed presently to preach to the In- 
ians, laughed, and seemed to mock ; but went however 
»them. Ihad notproceeded far in my public discourse 
efore she felt effectually that she had a soul; and be- 
bre I had concluded my discourse was so convinced 
ff her sin and misery, and so distressed with concern 
br her soul’s salvation, that she seemed like one 
ierced through with a dart, and cried out incessantly. 
‘he could neither go nor-stand, nor sit on her seat 
yithout being held up. After public service was over 
ne lay flat on the ground, praying earnestly, and 
yould take no notice of, nor give any answer to any 
ho spoke to her. I hearkened to what she said, and 
erceived the burden of her prayer to be, ‘ Guttum- 
jhaukalummeh wechaumeh kmeleh Nolah,’ i. e. ‘ Have 
aercy on me, and help me to give you my hearl.’ Thus 
he continued praying incessantly for many hours 
gether. This was indeed a surprising day of God’s 
ower, and seemed enough to convince an Atheist of 
he truth, importance, and power of God’s word. 

| Aug. 9.—“ Spent almost the whole day with the In 

jians ; the former part of it in discoursing to many o. 
hem privately, and especially to some who had lately 
ceived comfort, and endeavoring to inquire into the 
ounds of it,as well as to give them, some proper n- 


| 
| actions, cautions and directions. 


| 


152 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. vl 


“In the afternoon discoursed to them publi 
There were now present about seventy a 
and young. I opened and applied the parable of th 
sower, Matt. 13, Wasenabled to discourse with mue 
plainness, and found afterward that this discourse wa 
-very instructive to them. There were many tear 
among them while I was discoursing publicly, but n 
considerable cry ; yet some were much affected with 
few words spoken from Matt. 11 : 28, ‘Come unto 
all ye that labor,’ &c. with which I concluded my 
course. But, while I was discoursing near nightt 
two or three of the awakened persons, a Divine in 
fluence seemed to attend what was spoken to them. 
a powerful manner, which caused the persons to er, 
out in anguish of soul, although I spoke not a word ¢ 
terror, but.on the contrary, set before them the fullnes 
and all-sufficiency of Christ’s merits, and his willing 
ness to save all that come to him, and thereupon presse 
them to come without delay. The cry of these was soo 
heard by others, who, though scattered before, imme 
diately gathered aL I then proceeded in the sam 
strain of gospel invitation, till they were all nell 
into tears and cries except two or three; and see 

in the greatest distress to find and secure an inter 

the great Redeemer. Some who had little more 

a ruffle made in their passions the day before, seemt 
now to be deeply affected and wounded at heart; 
the concern in general appeared nearly as prevalen’ 
the day before. There was indeed a very great mo 
ing ainong them, and yet every one seemed to 
apart. For so great was their concern, that al 
every one was praying and crying for himself, asi 
. none had been near. . ‘ Guttummauhalummeh ; Gut 
tummauhalummeh,’ i. e. ‘ Have mercy upon me + have 


a5.y™ OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 153 


‘ercy upon me, was the common cry. It was very 
Tecting to see the poor Indians, who the other day 
‘ere hallooing and yelling in their idolatrous feasts 
i drunken frolics, now erying to God with such im- 
riunity for an interest in hisdear Son! Found two 
three persons who, I had reason to hope, had taken 
mfort upon good grounds since the evening -before ; 
d these, with others who had obtained comfort, were 
gether, and seemed to rejoice much that God was 
trying on his work with such power upon others. 
| August 10.—* Rode to the Indians, and began to dis- 
urse more privately to those who had obtained com- 
© and satisfaction ; endeavoring to instruct, direct, 
4ution, and ailifort them. But others, being eager 
f hearing every word which related to spiritual con- 
érns, soon came together one after another ; and, when 
had ‘diseomnmed to the young converts more than half 
a hour, they seemed much melted with divine things, 
id earnestly desirous to be with Christ. I told them 
“the godly soul’s perfect purity and full enjoyment 
Christ, immediately upon its separation from the 
ody; and that it would be for ever inconceivably more 
hppy than they had ever been for any short space of 
Ine, when Christ seemed near to them in prayer or 
‘her duties. That I might make way for speaking ot 
‘e resurrection of the body, and thence of the com- 
‘ete blessedness of the man; I said, ‘ But perhaps 
‘me of you will say, I love my body as well as my 
sul, and I cannot bear to think that my body shall lie 
bad, if my soul is happy.’ To which they all cheer- 
‘lly replied, ‘ Muttoh, Muttoh ;’ before I had opportu- 
ity to prosecute what I designed respecting the resur- 
‘ction; i. e. ‘ No, No,” They did not regard their bo- 
les, if their sows might be with Christ. Then thev - 


| ny 


| be | 


154 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [haps WE 


appeared willing to be absent from the body, that 
might be present with the Lord. 

“ When I had spent some time with them I tu 
to the other Indians, and spoke to them from L 
19:10. ‘ For the Son of man is come to seek a! 
save that which was lost.’ I had not discoursed 
before their concern rose to a great degree, and 
house was filled with cries and groans. When 
sisted on the compassion and care of the Lord J 
Christ for those that were lost, who thought themse 
undone, and could find no way of escape; this melt 
them down the more, and aggravated their dist 
that they could not find and come to so kind a Sa 

“Sundry persons, who before had been slig 
awakened, were now deeply wounded with a se 
their sin and misery. One man in particular, who 
never before awakened, was now made to feel that “ 
word of the Lord was quick and powerful, sharp 
than any two-edged sword.’ He seemed to be pie re 
at heart with distress, and his concern appeared 
tional and scriptural, for he said that ‘all the wicke 
ness of his past life was brought fresh to his rem e 
brance, and that he saw all the vile actions he had da 
formerly, as if done but yesterday.’ 

‘“‘ Found one who had newly received comfort, al 
pressing distress from day to day. Could not but r 
jcice and admire the divine goodness in what appe 
this day. There seems to be some good done by evel 
discourse ; some newly awakened every day, and sot 
comforted. It was refreshing to observe the condi 
of those who obtained comfort : while others were J 
tressed with fear and concern, they were —_ 

. their hearts to God for them. ~ 
Lord’s day, Aug. 11.—“ Discoursed in the foreno 


1745.) OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 155 — 


‘rom the parable of the Prodigal Son. Luke, 15. Ob- 
erved no such remarkable effect of the word upon the 
ssembly as in days past. There were numbers of 
jareless spectators from the white people, of various 
vharacters. In the afternoon I discoursed upon a part 
€ Peter’s sermon. Acts, 2. And at the close of my 
iinaee to the Indians, made an address to the white 
eople; and divine truth seemed then to be attended 
Bien er, both to English and Indians. Several of 
e white heathen were awakened, and could not 
ynger be idle spectators; but found they. had souls to 
ave or lose as well as the Indians; and a great concern 
read through the whole aswembly ; So that this also 
peared to be a day of God’s power, especially to- 
ard the conclusion of it, although the influence at- 
mnding the word seemed scarcely so powerful now as 
! some days past. 
is “The number of Indians, old and young, was now 
pward of seventy ; and one or two were newly awak- 
ned this day who never had appeared to be moved 
9 concern for their souls before. Those who had 
tained relief and comfort, and had given hopeful 
yidences of having passed a saving change, appeared 
umble and devout, and behaved in an agreeable and 
hvistian-like manner. I was refreshed to see the ten- 
srness of conscience manifest in some of them; one 
rai of which I cannot but notice. Perceiving one 
‘them very sorrowful in the morning; I inquired inte 
‘e cause of her sorrow, and found the difficulty was 
\at she had been angry with her child the evening 
»fore, and was now exercised with fears lest her anger 
ad been inordinate and sinful ; which so grieved her 
iat she awoke and began to solbefore day light, and . 
yrstinued weeping for several hours together. : : 


| 


| 


156 ‘ LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. WI 


August 14.— “Spent the day with the Indians. 
was one of them who had some time since put aw 
his wife, as is common among them, and taken. an 
woman; and being now brought under some serio) 
impressions, was much concerned about that affair 
particular, and seemed fully convinced of the wicke 
ness of the practice, and earnestly desirous to k Y 
what God would have him to do in his present cireur 
stances. When the law of God respecting ma: 
had been opened to them, and the cause of his lea i 
his wife inquired into, and when it appeared tha’ 
had given him no just occasion, by unchastity, t¢ 
sert her, and that she was willing to forgive his pa 
misconduct and to live peaceably with him for the 
ture, and that she, moreover, insisted on it as her rig 
to live with him ; he was then told that it was hisi 
dispensable duty to renounce the woman whom] 
had last taken, and receive the other, who was! 
proper wife, and live peaceably with her during | 
With this he readily and cheerfully complied ; 2 
thereupon publicly renounced the woman he had Ie 
taken, and promised to live with and be kind tol 
wife during life ; she also promising the same to ii 
Here appeared a clear demonstration of the. power 
God’s word upon their hearts. I suppose a few 
before the whole world could not have persuad 
man to a compliance with Christian rules in this 

“ T was not without fears that this proceeding 
be like putting ‘new wine into old bottles; and th 
some might be prejudiced against Christianity, 
they saw the demands made by it. But the man b 
much concerned about the matter, the determinati 
of 1i could be deferred no longer ; and it seemed 
a good, rather than an ill effect among the Indians, W! 


> ; 


ae . 


(745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPiRIT. 157 


yenerally owned that the laws of Christ were good and 
ight respecting the affairs of marriage. In the after- 
‘oon I preached to them from the apostle’s discourse 
o Cornelius. Acts, 10:34. There appeared some af- 
eetionate concern among them, though not equal to 
vhat appeared in several of the former days. They 
» attended and heard as for their lives, and the 
,ord’s work seemed still to be promoted and propa- 
lated among them. 
| August 15.—‘ Preached from Luke, 4: 16-21. The 
rord was attended with power upon the hearts of the 
‘earers. There was much concern, many tears, and 
flecting cries among them; and some were deeply 
rounded and distressed for ee souls. There were 
pme newly awakened who came but this week, and 
onvictions seemed to be promoted in others. Those 
cho had received comfort, were likewise refreshed and 
rengthened ; and the wwiontk of grace appeared to ad- 
ae in all respects. ‘The passions of the congrega- 
on in general were not so much moved as in some 
ys past; but their heerisseemed as solemnly and deep- 
v affected with divine truth as ever, at least in many 
‘stances, although the concern did not seem so uni- 
rsal, = to reach every individual in such a manner 
} it anon to do some days before. 
| August. 16.—“ Spent considerable time in convers- 
g with the Indians. Found one who had got relief 
a comfort after pressing concern; and could not but 
i when I came to discourse particularly with her, 
t her comfort was o1 the right kind. In the after- 
on I preached to then: fi »m John, 6 : 26-34. To- 
d the close of my discourse vine truth was at- 


mded with considerable power upon the audience; 
14 Brsinerd. 


ete ei 


* 


~~ om . e 
Ry 
18 ~~ ia LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. ¥1 


¥; 


and more especially after public service was over, whi 
I particularly addressed several distressed persons. 

“ There was a great concern for their souls spre: 
pretty generally among them; but especially the 
were two persons newly awakened to a sense of the 
sin and misery ; one of whom was lately come, ai 
the other had all along been very attentive and desiro’ 
of being awakened, but could never before have at 
lively view of her perishing state. Now her conce 
and spiritual distress was such, that I thought I hi 
never seen any more pressing. A number of old m 
were also in distress for their souls ; so that they cou 
not refrain from weeping and crying aloud ; and the 
bitter groans were the most convincing as well as¢ 
fecting evidences of the reality and depth of theiri 
ward anguish. God is powerfully at work amo 
them. True and genuine convictions of sin are’ dai 
promoted in many instances; and some are new 
awakened from time to time; although some few, wl 
felt a commotion in their passions in days past, see 
now to discover that their hearts were never duly ¢ 
fected. I never saw the work of God appear so ind 
pendent of means as at this time. I discoursed to fl 
people, and spake what I suppose had a proper te 
dency to promote convictions ; but God’s manner 
working upon them seemed so entirely supernatur: 
and above means, that I could scarcely believe he us 
me as an instrument, or what I spake as means of ¢a 
rying on his work. For it appeared, as I thought, 
have no connection with or dependence on means’ 
any respect. Though I could not but continue to u 
the means, which I thought proper for the promotic 
of the work, yet God seemed, as I apprehended, | 
work entirely without them. I seemed to do nothin; 


> ? 
= 


-z 
1745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. _ 159 


and indeed to have nothing to do, but to ‘ stand still, 
and see the salvation of God ;? and found myself obliged 
and delighted to say, ‘ Not unto us,’ not unto instru- 
ments and means, ‘ but to thy name be glory.’ God ap- 
beared to work entirely alone, and 1 saw no room to 
uttribute any part of this work to any created arm. 

| Aug. 17—“ Spent much time in private conferences 
with the Indians. Found one who had newly obtained 
‘elief and comfort, after a long season of spiritual 
‘rouble and distress; he having been one of my 
iearers at the Forks of Delaware for more than a year, 
ind now having followed me here under deep con- 
tern for his’soul; and had abundant reason to hope 
shat his comfort was well grounded, and truly divine. 
| Lords day, Aug. 18.—“ Preached in the forenoon to 
i mixed assembly of white people, of divers denomina- 
‘ions. Afterward preached to the Indians, from John 
5: 35-40. There was considerable concern visible 
tmong them, though not equal to what has frequently 
ippeared of late. 

| Aug. 19.—“ Preached from Isaiah, 55:1. ‘ Ho every 
me that thirsteth. Divine truth was attended with 
dower upon those who had received comfort, and 
others also. The former sweetly melted and refreshed 
vith divine invitations ; the latter much concerned for 
heir souls, that they might obtain an interest in these 
slorious gospel provisions which were set befure them. 
There were numbers of poor impotent souls that 
waited at the pool for healing; and the angel seemed, 
/is at other times of late, to trouble the waters, so that 
here was yet a most desirable and comfortable pros- 
sect of the spiritual recovery of diseased perishing 
sinners. 

| dug 23.—“ Spent some time with the Indians in pri- 


160 _ AIFE.OF BRAINERD. » — Chap. WII 


vate discourse; and afterward preached to them 
John, 6: 44-50. There was, as has been usual, 
attention, and some affection among them. 
appeared deeply concerned for their souls, and 
not but express their inward anguish by tears and 
But the amazing divine influence, which has b 
powerfully among them in general, seems.at pr 
some degree abated: at least in regard to its u 
sality ; though many who have obtained ne spe 
comfort still retain deep impressions of divine thir 
Aug. 24.—“ Spent the forenoon in discoursi 
some of the Indians in reference to their publicly 
fessing Christ. Numbers of them seemed to be 
with love to God, delighted with the thoughts of givin, 
themselves up to him, and melted and refreshed wit! 
the hopes of enjoying the blessed Redeemer. After 
ward I discoursed publicly from 1 Thess. 4: 13-1] 
There was a solemn attention, and some visible ¢ 
cern and affection in the time of public service 
which was afterward increased by some further exhor 
tations given to them to come to Christ, and giveu 
their hearts to him, that they might be fitted to ‘asceni 
up and meet him in the air, when he shall ‘deseem 
with ashout, and the voice of the archangel.’ : 
“There were several Indians newly come, 
thought their state good, and themselves happy, 
cause they had sometimes lived with the white 
under gospel light, had learned to read, were civil, 
although they appeared utter strangers to their 
hearts, and altogether unacquainted with the powero 
religion, as wellas with the doctrines of grace. Witt 
these I discoursed particularly, after public worship 
and was surprised to see their self-righteous disposi 
tion, their strong attachment to the covenant of works 


i 


| 
1745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 161 


for salvation, and the high value they put upon their 
supposed attainments. Yet after much discourse, one 
appeared in a measure convinced that ‘by the deeds of 
the law no flesh living can be justified ;’ and wept bit- 
serly, inquiring ‘ what he must do to be saved.’ 

“This was very comfortable to others, who had 
gained some experimental knowledge of their own 
nearts; for befure they were grieved with the conver- 
sation and conduct of these new comers, who boasted 
of their knowledge, and thought well of themselves, 
out evidently discovered to those who had any expe- 
rience of divine truth, that they knew nothing of their 
pwn hearts. ~ 
_ Lords day, Aug. 25.—“ Preached in the forenoon 
from Luke, 15: 3-7. A number of white people being 
oresent, I made an address to them at the close of my 
jisecourse to the Indians; but could not so much as 
xeep them orderly; for scores of them kept walking 
and gazing about, and behaved more indecently than 
any Indians I have ever addressed. A view of their 
abusive conduct so sunk my spirits, that I could 
icarcely go on with my work. 

' “In the afternoon I discoursed from Rev. 3:20; at 
which time fifteen Indians made a public profession 
of their faith. After the crowd of spectators was gone 
{ called them together, and discoursed to them in par- 
jicular; at the same time inviting others to attend. I 
reminded them of the solemn obligations they were 
now under to live to God; warned them of the evil 
ind dreadful consequences of careless living, espe- 
vially after their publie profession of Christianity; 
zave them directions for future conduct; and encou- 
‘aged them to watchfulness and devotion, by setting 
{ B 14* 


162 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. : 


before them the comfort and happy conclusivn o J 
religious life. ‘ 

“This was a desirable and sweet season ind EE 
Their hearts were engaged and cheerful in duty ; | 
they rejoiced that they had, in a public and solen 
manner, dedicated themselves to God. Love seen 
toreign among them! They took each other by theh 
with tenderness and affection, as if their hearts y 
knit together, while I was discoursing to them; 
all their deportment toward each other was such, t 
a serious spectator might justly be excited to ery 
with admiration, ‘Behold how they love one ano 
Numbers of the other Indians, on seeing and hee 
these things, were much affected, and wept bitter 
longing to be partakers of the same joy and com 
which these discovered by their very countenances 
~ well as conduct. 

Aug. 26. =ieaalal to my people from John 
51-55. After I had discoursed some time, I addres 
them in particular who entertained hopes that tl 
were passed from death unto life. Opened to them n 
persevering nature of those consolations which Ch 
gives his people, and which I trusted he had besto 
upon some in that assembly ; showed them that s 
have already the beginnings of eternal life, and 
their heaven shall speedily be completed. 

“Ino sooner began to discourse in this strain t] 
the dear Christians in,the congregation began te 
melted with affection to, and desire of the enjoymen 
of Christ, and of a state of perfect purity. They w ; 
affectionately, yet joyfully; and their tears and sok 
discovered brokenness of heart, and yet were atten 
with real comfort and sweetness. It was a tender, al 
fectionate, humble and delightful meeting, and ay 


1745.) = OUTPOURING OF THE spiRIT. 163 


reared to be the genuine effect of a spirit of adoption, 
ind very far from that spirit of bondage under which 
hey not long since labored. The influence seemed 
‘0 spread from these through the whole assembly; 
nd there quickly appeared a wonderful concern 
mong them. Many, who had not yet found Christasan 
I-sufficient Savior, were surprisingly engaged in seek- 
ag after him. It was indeed a lovely and very inte- 
esting assembly. Their number was now about 
inety-fice persons, old and young, and almost all af- 
zeted with joy-in Christ Jesus, or with the utmost 
oncern to obtain an interest in him. 
| “Being now convinced that it was my duty to take 
journey far back to the Indians on the Susquehanna, 
_ being now a proper season of the year to find them 
enerally at home; after having spent some hours in 
ublic and private discourse with my people, I told » 
hem that I must now leave them for the present, and 
© to their brethren far remote, and preach to them ; 
iat I wanted the Spirit of God. should go with me, 
‘ithout whom nothing could be done to any good pur- 
bse among the Indians—as they themselves had op- 
ortunity to see and observe by the barrenness of our 
‘eetings at some times, when there was much pains 
‘ken to affect and awaken sinners, and yet to little or 
9 purpose;and asked them if they could not be wil- 
ag to spend the remainder of the day in prayer for 
e, that God would go with me, and succeed my en- 
2avors for the conversion of these poor souls. They 
aeerfully complied with the motion, and soon after I 
‘ft them, the sun being about an hour and a half high, 
ley bewan and continued praying till break of deeyn or 
ery near ; never mistrusting, as they tell me, till they 
‘ent out and viewed the stars, and saw the morning 


164 LIFE OF BRAINERD, | adi 


star a considerable height, that it was later tha 
time. Thus eager and unwearied were they in the 
devotions! A remarkable night it was; attended, as m 
Interpreter tells me, with a powerful influence uj 

those who were yet under concern, as well as 
who had received comfort. There were, I trust, 
day, two distressed souls brought to the enjoymen 
solid comfort in Him in whom the weary find rest. 
was likewise remarkable, that this day an old Ind 
who had all his days been an idolater, was brough 
give up his rattles, which they use for music in t) 
idolatrous feasts and dances, to the an Indiats, 


quickly destroyed them. This was done without 
interference of mine, I having not spoken to him abot 
it, so that it seemed to be nothing but the powe 
God’s word, without any particular application to 
sin, that produced this effect. Thus God has beg 
thus he has hitherto surprisingly carried on a worl 
grace among these Indi _ May the glory oe ascri 
to Him who is the sole author of it.” 


Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Sept. 174 


Lord’s day, Sept. 1—“Preached to the Indians f 
Luke, 11: 16-23. The word appeared to be atten 
with some power, and caused some tears in the ass 
bly. Afterward preached to a number of white 
ple present, and observed many of them in tears; 
some who had formerly been as careless and une 
cerned about religion, perhaps, as the Indians. 
ward night discoursed to the Indians again, and p 
ceived a greater attention, and more visible con 
among them than has been usual in these parts. 

Sept. 3,—“Preached to the Indians from Isaiah, 5: 
3+. The Divine presence seemed to be in the mid 


745.) | sa FORKS OF DELAWARE. 163" 


f the assembly, and a considerable concern spread 
mong them. ‘Sundry persons seemed to be awakened ; 
ong whom were two stupid creatures, whom I could 
eo ever before keep awake while I was discoursing 
them. Icould not but rejoice at this appearance of 
tings; although at the same time I could not but fear, 
st the concern which they at present manifested 
‘ight prove like a morning cloud, as something of that 
ad formerly done in thiese parts. 
. 5.—“ Discoursed to the Indians from the para- 
‘ofthe sower. Afterward I conversed particularly 
ith a number 2 persons ; which occasioned them to 
eep, and even to cry out in an affecting manner, and 
‘ized others with surprise and concern. I doubt not 
paces a divine power accompanied what was then 
ken. Several of these persons had been with me 
) Crossweeksung, and there had seen, and some of 
‘em, I trust felt, the power of God’s word in an affect- 
g and saving manner. l asked one of them, who 
idobtained comfort, and given hopeful evidence of 
ting truly religious, ‘ Why he now cried? He re- 
teas ‘ When he thought how Christ was slain like a 
b, and spilt his blood for sinners, he could not help 
ing when he was alone;’- and thereupon burst into 
and cried again. I then asked his wife, who had 
ewise been abundantly comforted, why she cried? 
e answered, ‘ that she was grieved that the Indians 
tre would not come to Christ, as weil as those at 
‘rossweeksung, I asked her if she found a heart to 
ied for them, and whether Christ had seemed 7o be 
tar her of late in prayer, as in times past, which is 
‘y usual method of expressing a sense of the divine 
tesence. She replied, ‘ Yes, he had been near to her, 
ad at times when she had been praying alone, her 


| 
/ 


| 


_any concern for his soul. There appeared a re: 


re 


166 LIFE OF BRAINERD. . [Ch 


heart loved to pray so that she could not bear'to 
lace, but wanted to stay and pray longer? 

d’s day, Sept. 8.—* Diseoursed to the India 

tiie afternoon from Acts, 2: 36-39. The word of 
at this time seemed to fall with weight and influ 
upon them. There were but few present; but 7 
that. were, were in tears, and several cried out in 
tressing concern for their souls. There was one} 
bevel awakened, who never before discov 


* 


ble work of the Divine Spirit among them gene 
not unlike what has been of late _Crossweeks 
It seemed as if the divine influence had spread tk 
to this place, although somethi it. appeared ( 
before in the awakening of my interpreteryhis 
and some few others. Several of the careless ¥ 
people now present were awakened, or at least sta! 
seeing the power of God so prevalent among the 
dians. I then madea — address to them, v 
seemed to make some impression upon them, and 
cite some affection in, the 
“ There are some Indians in these parts who 
always refused to hear me preach, and have bee! 
raged against those who have attended on my pré 
ing. But of late they are more bitter than eé 
scoffing at christianity, and sometimes asking 
hearers ‘ How often they have cried,’ and ‘ whi 
they have not now cried enough to ao. their turn " 
‘So that they have already trial of cruel mockings, 
Sept. 9.—“ Left the Indians at the Forks of 
ware, and set out on a journey ll Susqueha 
river, directing my course toward the Indian t 
more than an hundred and twenty miles westy 
from the Forks. ‘Traveled about fifteen miles, 
there lodged. 


‘ 
\J 
745.) . ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 167 


ie, Shaumoking, Sept. 1745. 
Sept. “= After having lodged out three nights, 
rrived at the Indian town I aimed at, on the Susque- 
anna, called Shaumoking ; one of the places, and the 
of them, which I visited in May last. I was 
a cccives, and entertained by the Indians ; but 
ad little satisfaction by reason of the heathenish 
ice and revel they then held in the house where I 
as obliged to lodge; which I could not suppress, 
ough I often entreated them to desist, for the sake 
‘one of their own friends, who was then sick in the 
buse, and whose disorder was much aggravated by 
le noise, Al how destitute of natural affection 
fe these poor eas ivated pagans! although they 
‘em somewhat kind in their own way. Of a truth 
© dark corners of the earth are full of the habitations 
‘cruelty. This town, as I observed in my Diary of 
‘ry last, lies partly on the east side of the river, partly 
) the west, and partly on a large island in it, and 
atains upward of fifty houses, and nearly three 
indred persons, though I never saw much more than 
jf that number in it. They are of three different 
pes of Indians, speaking three langtaees wholly un- 
lligible to each other. About one half of its in 
itants are Delawares, the others called Senekas 
i! Tutelas. The Indians of this place are accounted 
/most drunken, mischievous, and ruffianlike fellows. 
ny in these parts; and Satan seems to have his Seat 
his town in atl eminent manner. sd 
jept. 14.—“ Visited the Delaware King, who was 
‘posed to be at the point of death when I was here 
May last, but was now recovered ; discoursed with 
| and others respecting christianity ; spent the after- 
(n with them. and had more encouragement than I 


bal 


168 LIFE OF BRAINERD. {Chap 


expected. The king appeared kindly disposed, ¢ 
willing to be instructed. This gave me some 
ragement that God would open an effectual 
my preaching the Gospel here, and set up his ki 
in this place. This was a support and refres 
me in the wilderness, and rendered my —_ 

gai comfortable and pleasant. , 

rd’s day, Sept. 15.—“ Visited the chief 

Delawares again; was kindly received by hit 
discoursed to the Indians in the afternoon. 
tertained hopes that God would open their heat 
receive the Gospel, though many of them in the = 


were so drunk from day to day that I could 
opportunity to speak to them. Toward nig 
coursed with one who understood the languages 
Six Nations, as they are usually called, who di 
an inclination to hearken to christianity, which 
me some hope that the Gospel might hereafter | 
to those nations far remote. — 
Sept. 16.— Spent the forenoon with the India 
endeavoring to instruct them from house to house; 
to engage them, as far as I could, to be friendl} 
christianity. ‘Toward night went to one part of 
town where they were sober, got together near fi 
of them, and discoursed to them, having first obtal 
the king’s cheerful consent. There was a surpris 
attention among them, and they manifested a consi 
ble desire of being further instructed. There were 
one or two that seemed to be touched with some e 
cern for their souls, who appeared well pleased ¥ 
some conversation in private after I had concluded 
public discourse to them. + 
“ My spirits were much refreshed with this appé 
ance of things, and I could not but return —_ 


1745.) ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 169 


jmterpreter, having no other companion in this jour- 
ney to my poor hard lodgings, rejoicing in hopes that 
(God designed to set up his kingdom here, where satan 
how reigns in the most eminent manner; and found 
uncommon freedom in addressing the throne of grace 
‘or the accomplishment of so great and glorious a work. 
| Sept. 17.—* Spent the forenoon in visiting and dis- 
‘oursing to the Indians. About noon left Shaumoking. 
|most of the Indians going out this day on their hunting 
lesign) and traveled down the river a ae 


Ganpitile, Sept. 1745. 

| Sept. 19.—* Visited an Indian town, called Juncauta, 
‘itmate on an island in the Susquhisenitn: Was much 
\iseouraged with the temper and behavior of the In- 
lians heres; although they appeared friendly when I 
vas with them the last spring, and then gave me en- 
‘ouragement to come and see them again. But they 
iow seemed resolved to retain their pagan notions, and 
yersist in their idolatrous practices. 
| September 20.— Visited the Indians again at Jun- 
auta island, and found them almost universally very 
‘usy in making preparations for a great sacrifice and 
ance. Had no opportunity to get them together, in 
irder to discourse with them about Christianity, by 

ason of their being so much engaged about their sa- 

ifice. My spirits were much sunk with a prospect 
0 very discouraging ; and especially seeing I had this 
ay no interpreter but a pagan, who was as much at- 
ached to idolatry as any of them, and who could 
‘either speak nor understand the language of these 
indians ; so that I was under the greatest disadvantages 
maginable. However, I attempted to discourse pri- 


ately with some of them, but without any appearance 
15 Brainerd. 


170 LIFE OF BRAINERD. {Chap. Vil 


of success: notwithstanding I still tarried with th mn 
“In the evening they met together, nearly a hu 
dred of them, and danced around a large fire, ha 
prepared ten fat deer for the sacrifice. The fat of 
inwards they burnt in the fire while they were dancing 
which sometimes raised the flame to a prodigior 
height; at the same time yelling and shouting in sue 
a manner that they might easily have been heard ¢ 
“miles or more. They continued their sacred da 
nearly all night, after which they ate the flesh of 
sacrifice, and so retired each one to his own lodging 
“T enjoyed little satisfaction ; being entirely alon 
on the island, as to any Christian company, and in th 
midst of this idolatrous revel; and having walked { 
and fro till body and mind were pained and much 
pressed, I at length crept into a little crib made fo 
_ corn, and there slept on the poles. , 
Lords day, Sept. 21.—“ Spent the day with the Iz 
dians on the island. As soon as they were well upi 
the morning I attempted to instruct them, and labore; 
for that purpose to get them together; but soon fo 
they hal something else to do, for near noon the 
gathered together all their powaws, or conjurers, 
set dbout half a dozen of them playing their jugglin 
tricks, and acting their frantic distracted postures, i 
order to find out why. they were then so sickly upo 
the island, numbers of them being at that time dis 
dered with a fever and bloody flux. In this exer 
they were engaged for several hours, making all 
wild, ridiculous and “distracted motions imaginable 
sometimes singing, sometimes howling, sometimes ex 
vending their hands to the utmost stretch, and spread 
ing all their fingers ; they seemed to push with ther 
as if they designed to push something away, or at leas 


745.) POWAWS. 171 


eep it off at arm’s-end ; sometimes stroking their faces 
‘ith their hands, then spurting water as fine as mist; 
»metimes sitting flat on the earth, then bowing down 
heir faces to the ground ; then wringing their sides as 
‘in pain and anguish, twisting their faces, turning up 
ieir eyes, grunting, puffing, &c. 
Their monstrous actions tended to excite ideas of 
lorror, and seemed to have something in them, as I 
ought, peculiarly suited to raise the devil, if he could 
e raised by any thing odd, ridiculous, and frightful. 
‘ome of them, I could observe, were much more fer- 
ent and devout in the business than others, and seemed 
> chant, peep, and mutter with a great degree of 
varmth and vigor, as if determined to awaken and en- 
lage the powers below. I sat at a small distance, not 
ore than thirty feet from them, though undiscovered, 
vith my Bible in my hand, resolving, if possible, to 
poil their sport, and prevent their receiving any an- 
avers from the infernal world, and there viewed the 
thole scene. They continued their hideous charms 
ind incantations for more than three hours, until they 
ad all wearied themselves out; although they had in 
nat space of time taken several intervals of rest ; and 
't length broke up, I apprehended, without receiving 
y answer at all. , . 
| “ After they had done powawing, I attempted to dis- 
urse with them about Christianity ; but they soon 
tered, and gave me no opportunity for any thing. 
{that nature. A view of these things, while I was en- 
irely alone in the wilderness, destitute of the society 
if any one who so much as ‘named the name of ‘Christ, 
treatly sunk my spirits, and gave me the most gloomy 
urn of mind imaginable, almost stripped me of all re- 
olution and hope respecting further attempts for pro- 


172 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. 


pagating the Gospel and converting the pagans, al 
rendered this the most burdensome and disagree 
Sabbath which I ever saw. But nothing, I can 
say, sunk and distressed me like the loss of my 
respecting their conversion. This concern appeal 
so great, and seemed to-be so much my own, 
seemed to have nothing to do on earth if this fai 
A prospect of the greatest success in the saving ca 
version of souls under Gospel light; would have 4 
little or nothing toward compensating for the los 
my hope in this respect ; and spirits now were 
damped and depressed, that I had no heart nor pe 
to make any further attempts among them for ‘ 
purpose, and could not possibly recover my hope 
solution, and courage, by the utmost of my endeay 
“The Indians of this island can, many of them, 1 
derstand the English language considerably well ; hi 
ing formerly lived in some part of Maryland, ame 
or near the white people ; but are very drunken, vieic 
and profane, although not-so savage as those who h 
less acquaintance with the English. Their custor 
in various respects, differ from those of the other! 
dians upon this river. They do not bury their 
in acommon form, but let their flesh consuine abt 
the ground, in close cribs made for that purpose. , 
the end of a year, or sometimes a longer space of tin 
they take the bones, when the flesh is all consume 
and wash and scrape them and afterward bury then 
with some ceremony. Their method of charmin 
conjuring over the sick, seems somewhat different fror 
that of the other Indians, though in substance the sa 
The whole of it among these and others, perhaps, 
an imitation of what seems, by Naaman’s expression 
2 Kings, 5: 11, tc have been the custom of the ancien! 


745.) "A CONJURER. 173 


eathen. Itseems chiefly to consist in their ‘ striking 
heir hands over the discased,’ repeatedly stroking 
iem, ‘and calling upon their god ;? except the spurt- 
1g of water like a mist, and some other frantic cere- 
sonies common to the other 28 pagal which I have 
ready mentioned. 
“When I was in this region in May last I had an 
opportunity of learning many of the notions and cus-. 
yms of the Indians, as well as observing many of their 
ractices. I then traveled more than an hundred and 
iirty milés upon the river, above the English settle- 
ents; and in that journey met with individuals of 
even or eight distinct tribes, speaking as many differ- 
at languages. But of all the sights I ever saw among 
aem, or indeed any where else, none appeared so 
tightful, or so near a kin to what is usually imagined 
f infernal powers, none ever excited such images of 
‘rror in my mind, as the appearance of one who was 
‘devout and zealous reformer, or rather restorer of 
that he supposed was the ancient religion of the In- 
jians. He made his appearance in his pontifical garb, 
thich was a coat of bear skins, dressed with the hair 
n, and hanging down to his toes; a pair of bear skin 
ockings; and a great wooden face painted, the one 
ta black, the other half tawny, about the color of an 
hdian’s skin, with an extravagant mouth, cut very 
much awry ; the face fastened to a bear skin cap, which 
tas drawn over his head. He advanced toward me 
‘ith the instrument in his hand which he used for 
rusic in his idolatrous worship ; which was a dry tor- 
ise shell with some corn in it, and the neck of it 
awn on to a-piece of wood, which made a very con- 
lenient handle. As he came forward-he beat his tune 


vith the rattle, and danced with all his might, but-did 


B 15* 
| 


Dia Ne 5 


i LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. ¥ 


not suffer any part of his body, not so much ashi 
fingers, to be seen. No one would have imagin 
from his appearance or actions, that he could 
been a human creature, if they had not had som 
timation of it otherwise. When he came near me 
could not but shrink away from him, although it} 
then noon day, and I knew who it was ; his appearam 
and gestures were so prodigiously frightful. E 
a house consecrated to religious uses, with diy 
images cut upon the several parts of it. I went in,| 
found the ground beat almost as hard as a rock, ’ 
their frequent dancing upon it. I discoursed with] 
about Christianity. Some of my discourse he see 
to like, but some of it he disliked extremely. He to 
me that God had taught him his religion, and th 
never would turn from it; but wanted to find som 
who would join heartily with him in it ; for the Indi 
he said, were grown very degenerate and corrupt. H 
had thoughts, he said, of leaving all his friends 
traveling abroad, in order to find some who w 
join with him; for he believed that God had som 
good people some where, who felt as he did. He ha 
not always, he said, felt as he now did ; but had forme 
ly been like the rest of the Indians, until about four 
five years before that time. Then, he said, his hea 
was very much distressed, so that he could not li 
among the Indians, but got away into the woods, 
lived alone for some months. At length, he said, Ge 
comforted his heart, and showed him what he show 
do; and since that time he had known God, and tr. 
to serve him; and loved all men, be they "who the 
would, so as he never did before. He treated‘me wit 
uncommon courtesy, and seemed to be hearty in it, 
was told by the Indians, that he opposed their drinl 


¥ 


745.) A CONSURER. ; 175 


ag strong liquor with all his power ; aisd that, if at any 
ime he could not dissuade.them from it by all he could 
vy, he would leave them, and go crying into the woods. 
, was manifest that he had a set of religious noticns 
hich he had examined for himself, and not taken for 
ranted upon bare tradition ; and he relished or disre- 
shed whatever was spoken of a religious nature, as it 
ther agreed or disagreed with his standard. While 
was discoursing, he would sometimes say, ‘ Now that 
like ;.so God has taught me;’ &c. and some of his 
sntiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly denied 
ie existence of a devil, and declared there was no 
ich creature known among the Indians of old times, 
shose religion he supposed he was attempting to re- 
ve. He likewise told me, that departed souls went 
juthward, and that the difference between the good 
id the bad was this: that the former were admitted 
ito a beautiful town with spiritual walls; and that the 
‘tter would for ever hover around these walls, in,vain 
‘tempts to get in. He seemed to be sincere, honest, 
ad conscientious in his own way, and according to his 
wn religious notions; which was more than I ever 
\win any other Pagan. I perceived that he was 
co upon and derided among most of the Indians, 
a precise zealot, who made a needless noise about 
tous matters ; but I must say that there was some- 
‘ing in his donrpor and disposition which looked more 
xe true religion than any thing I ever observed 
mong other heathens. 
\“ Butalas ! how deplorable is the state of the Indians 
pon this river! The brief representation which 1 
ave here given of their notions and manners, is suffi- 
ent to show that they are ‘led captive by Satan at his 
ll,’ in the most eminent manner; and methinks 


176 LIFE OF BRAINERD. a 


might likewise be sufficient to excite the compassi 
and engage the prayers, of God’s children for t 
their fellow-men, who sit ‘in the regions of the sha¢ 
of death.’ 
Sept. 22.—“ Made some further attempts to instrue 
and Christianize the Indians on this Island, but al 
no purpose. They live so near the white people 
they are always in the way of strong liquor, as wel 
of the ill examples of nominal Christians; whi 
renders it so unspeakably difficult to treat with th 
about Christianity.” 


Forks of Delaware, Oct. 1745 


Oct. 1.—“ Discoursed to the Indians here, and sp 
some time in private conference with them about tl 
souls’ concerns, and afterward invited them to acco 
pany, or if not, to follow me to Crossweeksung 
_ soon as they could conveniently; which invita’ 
numbers of them cheerfully accepted.” 


Crossweeksung, Oct. 17: 


Oct. 5.—“ Preached to my people from John, 
1-6. The divine presence seemed to be in the assen 
bly. Numbers were affected with divine truth, am 
was a comfort to some in particular. O what a 
ference is there between these, and the Indians y 
whom I had lately treated upon the Susquehan 
To be with those seemed to be like being banis 
from God and all his people; to be with these, like I 
ing admitted into his family, and to the enjoyme 
of his divine presence! How great is the chang 
lately made upon numbers of those Indians ; who, \ 
many months ago, were as thoughtless atid averse 
Christianity as those upon the Susquehanna ; and 


(745. ] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 177 


stonishing is that grace which has made this change! 
| Lords day, Oct. 6.—‘Preached in the forenoon from 
shn, 10: 7-11. There was a considerable melting 
mong my people; the dear young Christians were 
wfreshed, comforted and strengthened; and one or 
vo persons newly awakened. In the afternoon I dis- 
oursed on the story of the Jailor, Acts, 16; and in the 
vening expounded Acts, 20: 1-12. There was at this 
me a very agreeable melting spread throughout the 
hole assembly. I think I scarce ever saw a more de- 
cable affection among any people. There was scarcely 
‘dry eye to be seen among them; and yet nothing 
isterous or unseemly, nothing that tended to disturb 
ie public worship; but rather to encourage and ex- 
ce a Christian ardor and spirit of devotion. Those 
no I have reason to hope were savingly renewed 
wre first affected, and seemed to rejoice much, but 
ith brokenness of spirit and godly fear. Their ex- 
tises were much the same with those mentioned in 
iy journal of August 26, evidently appearing to be 
2 genuine effects of a spirit of adoption. 

After public service was over I withdrew, being 
es tired with the labors of the day ; and the Indians 
‘tinued praying among themselves for near two 
rs together; which continued exercises appeared 
ibe attended with a blessed quickening influence from 
»high. I could not but earnestly wish that numbers 
) God’s people had been present at this season to see 
| hear these things which I am sure must refresh 
| heart of every true lover of Zion. To see those 
0 were very lately savage gans and idolaters, 
ying no hope, and without G6d in the world, now 
2d with a sense of divine love and grace, and wor- 
Ipping the Father in spirit and in truth, as numbers 
| 

| . 


> | 
178 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Lenape 


here appeared to do, was not a little affecting; a 
especially to see them appear so tender and humbl 
as well as lively, fervent, and devout in the dij 
service. * 
Oct. 24.—“ Discoursed from John, 4 : 13, 14. Th 
was a great attention, a desirable affection, and an una 
fected melting in the assembly. It is surprisil 
see how eager they are to hear the word of Go 
often times thought that they would cheerfully a 
diligently attend divine worship twenty-four h 
together, if they had an opportunity so to do. 
Oct. 25.—“Discoursed to my people respecting 
Resurrection, from Luke, 20 : 27-36. When I 
to mention the blessedness the godly shall enjoy at 
season; their final freedom from death, sin and s0 
row; their equality to the angels in their uearness| 
and enjoyment of Christ, some imperfect de 
which they are favored with in the present life, f 
whence springs their sweetest comfort; and their be 
the children of God, openly acknowledged by him 
such; many of them were much affected and m 
with a view of this blessed state. 
Oct. 26.—“ Being called to assist in the administt 
tion of the Lord’s supper in a neighboring congreg 
tion, I invited my people to go with me. They in gen 
yal embraced the opportunity cheerfully ; and atten 
the several discourses of this solemnity with diligen 
and affection, most of them now understanding som 
thing of the English language. 
Lord’s day, Oct. 27.—“ While I was preaching to 
vast assembly of people abroad, who appeared general 
easy and secure, there was one Indian woman, a stra 
ger, who never had heard me preach before, nor @} 
regarded any thing about religion, who, having be 


'45.} AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 179 


pw persuaded by some of her friends to come to 
jeeting, though much against her will, was seized with 
«stressing concern for hersoul; andsoon after expiess- 
(a great desire of going home, more than forty miles 
«stant, to call her husband, that he also might be 
vakened to a concern for his soul. Some others of 
fe Indians appeared to be affected with divine truth 
(is day. The pious people of the English, numbers 
« whom I had opportunity to converse with, seemed 
ifreshed with seeing the Indians worship God in that 
(vout and solemn manner with the assembly of his 
ople; and with those mentioned in Acts, 11:18, they 
culd not but glorify God, saying, ‘Then hath God also 
tthe Gentiles granted repentance unto life.’ 
“Preached again in the afternoon, to a great assem- 
ly; at which time some of my people appeared affect- 
¢; and when public worship was over, were inquisi- 
tie whether there would not be another sermon in the 
cening, or before the solemnity of the Lord’s supper 
us concluded ; being still desirous to hear God’s word. 
\Oct. 28.— Discoursed from Matt. 22:1-13. Iwas 
cabled to open the scriptures, and adapt my discourse 
ed expression to the capacities of my people, J know 
't how, in a plain, easy, and familiar manner, beyond 
7 that I could have done by the utmost study; and 
without any special difficulty ; yea, with as much 
pom as if I had been addressing a common audi- 
e, who had been instructed in the doctrines of chris- 
tnity all their days. The word of God at this time 
e-med to fall upon the assembly with a divine power 
ed influence, especially toward the close of my dis- 
curse; there was both a sweet melting and bitter 
rourning in the audience. The dear christians were 
rreshed and comforted, convictions revived in others, 


¢ 


180 LIFE OP BRAINERD. oll 


and several pers¢ wly awakened whovhad | 
been with us before. So much of the divine pr 
appeared in the assembly, that it seemed ‘this w 
‘other than the house of God and the gate of he; 
All, who had any savor and relish of divine thi 
were even constrained by the sweetness of that s 
to say, ‘Lord, it is good for us tobe here.” If 
there was among my people an appearance of th 
Jerusalem ‘as a bride adorned for her husband,’ 
was much of it at this time; and so agreeable w 
entertainment, where such tokens of the divin 
sence were, that I could scareely be willing in the 
ning to leave the place and repair to my lodgin 
was refreshed with a view of the continuance 0: 
blessed work of grace among them, and with its 
ence upon strangers among the Indians, who f 
late from time to time providentially come inte 
part of the country. 
Lord’s day, Nov. 3.—Preached to my people 
Luke 16:17. ‘And it is easier for heaven and 
&c. more especially for the sake of several ] 
brought under deep concern for their souls. 1 
was some apparent concern and affection in the a 
bly ; though far less than has been usual of late, 
“On this day siz of the Indians made a profe 
of their faith. One of these was a woman near 
score years of age. Twoof the others were mei 
years old, who had been singular and remar 
among the Indians for their wickedness; one of 
had been a murderer, and both notorious drun 
well as excessively quarrelsome ; but now I canno! 
hope that both of them have become subjects of @ 
special grace. I kept them back for many weeks 4 
they had given evidence of having passed a g 


745. A ; 
tii that I might have more opportunities to ob- 
erve the fruits of the impressions which they had been 
der, and apprehended the way was now clear to ad- 
lit them to the ordinances. eB 

| Nov. 4.—Discoursed from John 11, briefly explain- 
ig most of the chapter. Divine truth made deep im- 
fessions upon many in the assembly. Numbers were 
fected with a view of the power of Christ manifested 
his raising the dead; and especially when this in- 
ance of his power was improved to show his ability 
raise dead souls, such as many of them felt them- 
Ives to be, to a spiritual life; as also to raise the dead 
the last day, and dispense to them rewards and 
nishments. 

“There were numbers of those who had come here 
ely from remote places, who were now brought un- 
r deep and pressing concern for their souls. One in 
rhcular, who not long since came half drunk, and 
led on us, and attempted by all means to disturb us 
ile engaged in divine worship, was now so con- 
x and distressed for her soul, that she seemed un- 


AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 181 


e to get any ease without an interest in Christ. 
ere were many tears and affectionate sobs and groans 
the assembly in general; some weeping for them- 
ves; others for their friends. Although persons are 
btless much more easily affected now than they\ 
re in the beginning of this religious concern, when 
rs and cries for their souls were things unheard of 
ong them; yet I must say that their affection in gen- 


cs genuine and unfeigned; and especially 


appeared very: conspicuous in those newly awaken- 
So that true and genuine convictions of sin seem 
1 to be begun and promoted in many instances. 


wenty three of the Indians in all have now pre- 
| 16 Brainerd. 


182 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Cha 


{essed their faith in Christ. Most of them belonged 
this region, a few to the Forks of Delaware.—Threo 
rich grace, none of them as yet have been left to 
grace their profession by any scandalous or unbee 
ing behavior. 


“T might now properly make many REMARKS) 
work of grace so very remarkabie as this has bee 
various respects; but shall confine myself to a few, 
eral hints only. 

1. “It is remarkable that God began this ¥ 
among the Indians ata time when I had the least 
and, to my apprehension, the least rational prospe 
seeing a work of grace propagated among them: 
bodily strength being then much wasted by a la’ 
dious journey to the Susquehanna, where I was ne¢ 
sarily exposed to hardships and fatigues among the 
dians; my mind being also exceedingly depressed 
a view of the unsuccessfulness of my labors. I 
little reason so much as to hope that God had 
me instrumental in the saving conversion of an 
the Indians, except my Interpreter and his 
Hence I was ready to look upon myeelf as a burdi 
the Society which employed and supported me in 
business, and began to entertain serious though 
giving up my mission; and almost resolved I w 
do so at the conclusion of the present year, if I 
then no better prospect of success in my work h 
nad hitherto had. I cannot say that I entertained 
thoughts because I was weary of the labors and 

tigues which necessarily attended my present busin 
or because I had light and freedom in my own! 
to turn any other way; but purely through deje 
of spirit, pressing discouragement, and an appreli 


, os 
745.] «§ «=CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 183 
_ 


ion of its being unjust to spend money consecrated to 
eligious uses, only to civilize the Indians, and bring 
aem to an external profession of Christianity. This 
yas all which I could then see any prospect of effect- 
1g, while God seemed, as I thought, evidently to 
‘own upon the design of their saving conversion, by 
‘ithholding the convincing and renewing influences 
f his blessed Spirit from attending the means which 
had hitherto used with them for that end. 
| “In this frame of mind I first visited these Indians 
; Crossweeksung ; apprehending that it was my in- 
\Spensable duty, seeing I had heard there was a num- 
er in these parts, to make some attempts for their con- 
es to God, though I cannot say I had any hope of 
recess, my spirits being now so extremely sunk. I 
? not know that my hopes respecting the conversion 
‘the Indians were ever reduced to so low an ebb, 
nee I had any special concern for them, as at fe 
me. Yet this was the very season in which God saw 
| to begin this glorious work! Thus he ‘ordained 
rength out of weakness,’ by making bare his almighty 
at a time when all hopes and human probabilities 
fost evidently appeared to fail— Whence I learn, that 
is good to follow the path of duty, though in the midst 
darkness and discouragement. 
2. “It is remarkable how God providentially, and 
a manner almost wnaccountable, called these Indians 
a to be instructed in the great things that con- 
rned their souls: and how he seized their minds 
Kth the most solemn and weighty concern for their 
an salvation, as fast as they came to the place 
ere his word was preached. WhenI first came into 
tese parts in June, I found not one man at the place 
bisited, but only four women and a few children; but 


184 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. | 


before I had been here matty days, they gathered f 
all quarters, some from e than twenty miles; 
when I made them a second visit in the beginning 
August, some came more than forty miles to hea 
Many came without any intelligence of what w 
ing on here, and consequently without any desig 
theirs, so much as to gratify their curiosity. Th 
seemed as if God had summoned them together f 
all quarters for nothing else but to deliver his mess 
to them; and that he did this, with regard to son 
them, without making use of any human mea 
though there was pains taken by some of them to 
notice to others at remote places. 

“Nor is it less surprising that they were one 
another affected with a solemn concern for their s¢ 
almost as soon as they came upon the spot whe 
vine truths were taught them. I could not butt 
often, that their coming to the place of our publie 
ship, was like Saul and his messengers coming amr 
the prophets; they no sooner came but they prophes 
and these were almost as soon affected with a sen 
their sin and misery, and with an earnest concein 
deliverance, as they made their appearance in our 
sembly. After this work of grace began with pc 
among them, it was common for strangers of the 
dians, before they had been with us one day, to be m 
awakened, deeply convinced of their sin and mis 
and to inquire with great solicitude, ‘ What they sh 
do to be saved ?’ a 

8. “It is likewise remarkable how God presel 
these poor ignorant Indians from being prejuc 
against me, and the truths I taught them, by th 
means that were used with them for that purpose 
ungodly people. There were many attempts made b 


| 
745.) CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 185 


ome ill-minded persons of the white people to preju- 
ice them against, or frighten them from Christianity. 
‘hey sometimes told them, that the Indians were well 
iough already ;—that there was no need of all this 
rise about Christianity ;—that if they were Christians 
ey would be in no better, no safer, or happier State, 
an they were already in. Sometimes they told them, 
at I was a knave, a deceiver, and the like; that I daily 
ught them lies, and had no other design but to im- 
yse upon them. When none of these, and such like 
‘ggestions, would avail to their purpose, they then 
fed another expedient, and told the Indians, ‘My de- 
‘7m was to gather together as large a body of them as 
tem could, and sell fhem to England for slaves cu 
an which nothing could be more likely to terrify the 
dians, they being naturally of a jealous disposition, 
id the most averse to a state of servitude perhaps of 
iy people living. 
“But all these wicked insinuations, through divine 
dness over-ruling, constantly turned against the 
thors of them, and only served to engage the affec- 
Le of the Indians more firmly tome; for they, being 
vakened to a solenin concern for their souls, could 
it but observe, that the persons who endeavored to 
bitter their minds against me, were altogether un- 
neerned about their own souls, and not only so, but 
fious and profane; and thence could not but argue, 
it if they had no concern for their own, it was not 
ily they should have for the souls of others. 
It seems yet the more wonderful that the Indians 
e preserved from once harkening to these sugges- 
fis; masmuch as I was an utter stranger among 
hm, and could give them no assurance of my sincere 
ection to, and concern for them, by any thing that 
| B 16* 
| 
| 


186 LIFE OP BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 


was past,—while the persons who insinuated 
things were their old acquaintance, who had frequ 
opportunities of gratifying their thirsty appetites wit 
strong drink, and consequently, doubtless had. 
greatest interest initheir affections. But from thi 
stance of their preservation from fatal prejudices, 
‘ have had occasion, with admiration, to say, ‘If 
will work, who can hinder? 
4. “Nor is it less wonderful how God was please 
to provide a remedy for my want of skill and free 
in the Indian language, by remarkably fitting my nte 
preter for, and assisting him im the performance 0 
work. It might reasonably be supposed I must nee 
labor under a vast disadvantage in addressing the hi 
dians by an Interpreter; and that divine truths wi 
undoubtedly lose much of the energy and pathos 
which they might at first be delivered, by reas@ 
their coming to the audience from a second hand. 
although this has often, to my sorrow and discout 
ment, been the case in times past, when my Inter; 
ter had little or no sense of divine things; yet ne 
was quite otherwise. I cannot think my address 
the Indians ordinarily, since the beginning of this 
son of grace have lost any thing of the power or] 
gency with which they were made, unless it were som 
times for want of pertinent and pathetic terms ang 
pressions in the Indian language ; which diffie 
could not have been much redressed by my pers 
acquaintance with theirlanguage. My Interpreter 
before gained some good degree of doctrinal kuc 
ledge, whereby he was rendered capable of understan 
ing, and communicating, without mistakes, the inte 
and meaning of my discourses, and that without beit 
eonfined strictly, and obliged to interpret verbatl 


1745.) CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 187 


de had likewise, to appearance, an experimental ac- 
juaintance with divine things; and it pleased God at 
his season to inspire his mind with longing desires for 
he conversion of the Indians, and to give him admi- 
able zeal and fervency in addressing them in order 
hereto. It is remarkable, that, when I was favored 
vith any special assistance in any work, and enabled 
2 speak with more than common freedom, fervency, 
nd power, under a lively and affecting sense of divine 
aings, he was usually affected in the same manner al- 
jost instantly, and seemed at once quickened and en- 
bled to speak in the same pathetic lan ge, and un- 
erthe same influence that I did. A surprising ener- 
often accompanied the word at such seasons 3 SO 
at the face of the whole assembly would be apparent- 
y changed almost in an instant, and tears and sobs be- 
me common among them. ‘ 
| * He also appeared to have such a clear doctrinal 
jew of God’s usual methods of dealing with souls un- 
er a preparatory work of conviction and humiliation 
8 he never had before; so that I could, with his help, 
iscourse freely with the distressed persons about their 
hternal exercises, their fears, discouragements, temp- 
itions, &c. He likewise took pains, day and night, to 
feet and inculcate upon the minds of the Indians the 
uths which I taught them daily ; and this he appeared 
do, not from spiritual pride, and an affectation of 
ptting himself up as a public teacher, but from a spirit 
{ faithfulness, and an honest concern for their souls. 
| “His conversation among the Indians has likewise, 
> far as I know, been savory, as becomes a Christian, 
ad a person employed in his work ; and I may justly 
ty, he has been a great comfort to me, and a great in- 
jrument of promoting this good work among the In- 


ay 
Pie 
La 


188 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. Vit 


dians ; so that whatever be the state of his own soul, i 
is apparent God has remarkably fitted him for 
work. ‘Thus God has manifested that, without beste 
ing'on me the gift of tongues, he could find’ a 
wherein I might be as effectually enabled to con 
the truths of his glorious Gospel to the minds of th 
poor benighted pagans. 

5. “It is further remarkable, that God has carried o 
his work here by such means, and in such a mani 
as tended to obviate, and leave no room for those p 
judices and objections which have often been ra 
against such a work. When persons have been aw 
ened to a solemn concern for their souls, by heari 
the more awful truths of God’s word, and the te : 
of the divine law insisted upon, it has usually in s 
cases been objected by some, that such persons w 
only frighted with a fearful noise of hell and dam 
tion; and that there was no evidence that their e 
cern was the effect of a divine influence. But G 
has left no room for this objection in the present ea 
this work of grace having been begun and carried 
by almost one continued strain of Gospel ne 
perishing sinners. 'This may reasonably be guess 
’ from a view of the passages of Scripture I chiefly 
sisted upon in my discourses from time to time ; whi 
I have for that purpose inserted in my diary. 

“Nor have I ever seen so general an awakening 
any assembiy in my life as appeared here while I ¥ 
opening and insisting upon the parable of the 
supper. Luke, 14. In which discourse I was enabl 
to set before my hearers the unsearchable riches of 
Gospel grace. Not that I would be understood here 
that I never instructed the Indians respecting theit 
fallen state, and the sinfulness and misery of it; for 


| 
™, 
745.) CHARACTER OF THD REVIVAL. 189 
| 
his was what I at first chiefly insisted upon with them, 
und endeavored to repeat and inculcate in almost every 
iscourse, knowing that without this foundation I 
fiould but build upon the sand, and that it would be 
vain to invite them to Christ unless I could convince 
nem Of their need of him. Mark, 2: 17. 
_“ But still this great awakening, this surprising con- 
ern, was never excited by: any harangues of terror, 
ut always appeared most remarkable when I insisted 
pon the compassion of a dying Savior, the plentiful 
ion: of the Gospel, and the free offers of divine 
race to needy, distressed sinners. Nor would I be 
derstood to insinuate, that such a religious concern 
ight justly be suspected as not being genuine and 
‘om a divine influence, if produced from the preach- 
ig of terror ; for this is perhaps God’s more usual way 
f awakening sinners, and appears entirely agreeable 
) Seripture and sound reason. But what I meant 
ere to ubserve is, that God saw fit to employ and bless 
jilder means for the effectual awakening of these In- 
ans, and thereby obviated the forementioned objec- 
pn, which the world might otherwise have had a 
jore plausible color of making. 
|“ As there has been no room’ for any plausible ob- 
ction against this work, with regard to the means, so 
2ither with regard to the manner in which it has been 
tried on. It is true, persons’ concern for their souls 
ave been exceeding great; the convictions of their sin 
ad misery have arisen to a high degree, and produced 
‘any tears, cries, and groans ; but then they have not 
ten attended with those disorders, either bodily or 
jental, which have sometimes prevailed among per 
(ns under religious impressions. There has here been 
) appearance of those convulsions, bodily agonies, 


| 
| a 


45 \ 
! “* 


| at 


i, a 


190 LIFE OF BRAINERD. LChap. VI 


frightful screamings, swoonings, and the like, w 
have been so much complained of in some places 
though there have been some, who, with the ja 
have been made to tremble under a sense of their 
and misery, and have been made to ery out from 2 
tressing view of their perishing state. ce 
“Nor has there been any appearance of menta 
orders here, such as visions, trances, imaginatio 
being under prophetic inspiration, and the like ; 
scarce any unbecoming disposition to appear rem 
ably affected either with concern or joy ; though In 
confess I observed one or two persons, whose con: 
I thought was in a considerable measure affected ; 
one whose joy appeared to be of the same kind. 
these workings of spiritual pride I endeavored to e 
in their first appearances, and have not since obser 
any affection, either of joy or sorrow, but what 
peared genuine and unaffected. But, 
Lastly: The effects of this work have likewise b 
very remarkable. I doubt not but that many of th 
people have gained more doctrinal knowledge of di 
truths since I first visited them in June last, than e¢ 
have been instilled into their minds by the most 
gent use of proper and instructive means for wl 
years together, without such a divine influence. TT! 
pagan notions and idolatrous practices seem to be éf 
tirely abandoned in these parts. They are regula 
and appear regularly disposed in the affairs of mai 
riage ; an instance whereof I have given in my jourt 
of August 14. They seem generally divorced fr 
drunkenness, their darling vice, the ‘sin that easil 
besets them ;’ so that I do not know of more than’ 
or three, who have been my steady hearers, that hat 
drank to excess since I first visited them ; although be 


f 
5 CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 191 
pe it was common for some or other of them to be 
‘runk almost every day : and some of them seem now 
) fear this sin in particular, more than death itself. A 
rinciple of honesty and justice appears in many of 
em; and they seem concerned to discharge their old 
ea which they have neglected, and perhaps scarce- 
‘ thought of for years past. Their manner of living 
much more decent and comfortable than formerly, 
avying now the benefit of that money which they used 
)consume upon strong drink. Love seems to reign 
mong them, especially those who have ‘given evi- 
2nces of having passed a saving change: and I never 
\W any appearance of bitterness or censoriousness in 
ese, nor any disposition to ‘ esteem themselves better 
‘an others,’ who had not received the like mercy. 
|“ As their sorrows under convictions have been great 
nd. pressing, so many of them have since appeared to 
iejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory ;’ and 
t I never saw any thing ecstatic or flighty in their 
iy. Their consolations do not incline them to light- 
‘88 ; but, on the contrary, are attended with solemni- 
, and often times with tears, and an apparent. broken- 
ss of heart, as may be seen in several passages of my 
ary. In his respect some of them have been sur- 
jised at themselves, and have with concern observed 
( bus that ‘ when their hearts have been glad,’ which 
phrase they commonly make use of to express 
ae joy, ‘they could not help erying for all.’ 
« And now, upon the whole, I think I may justly 
that here are all the symptoms and evidences of a 
Beet work of grace among these Indians, which 
(n reasonably be desired or expected. May the great 
Juthor of this work miaintain and promote the same 
Jre,and propagate it every where, till ‘the whole earth 
t filled with his glory? Amen. 


| 


192 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 


“T have now rode more than three thousand 7 
of which I have kept an exact account, since the be 
ning of March last, and almost the whole of it has 
in own proper business as a missionary, upot 
design, either immediately or more remotely, of 
pagating Christian knowledge among the India 
have taken pains to look out for a colleague or ¢ 
panion, to travel with me; and have likewise usec 
deavors to procure something for his support, 
religious persons in New-England, which cost 
journey of several hundred miles; but have not, a 
found any person qualified and disposed for this 
work, although I had some encouragement from 
nisters and others, that it was hoped a mainteni 
might be procured for one, when the man shoul 
found. 

“T have likewise of late represented to the gen 
men concerned with this mission, the necessit , 
having an English school speedily set up among tl 
Indians, who are now willing to be at the pains a 
thering together in a body, for this purpose. In o 
thereto, I have humbly proposed to them the coll 
ing of money for the maintenance of a schoolm 
and the defraying of other necessary charges, in 
promotion of this good work ; which they are 
tempting in the several congregations of Christian 
which they respectively belong. 

“ The several companies of Indians to whom I 
preached in the summer past, live at great diste 
from each other. It is more than seventy miles frot 
Crossweeksung, in New-Jersey, to the Forks of 
ware in Pennsylvania; and thence to sundry of the 
dian settlements which I visited on the Susquehai 
is more than an hundred and twenty miles. So m 


745. J DIFFICULTIES OF THE MISSION. 193 


if my time is necessarily consumed in journeying, 
hat I can have but little for any of my necessary 
tudies, and consequently for'the study of the Indian 
anguages in particular; and especially seeing I am 
bliged to discourse so frequently to the Indians at 
ach of these places while Iam with them, in order to 
edeem time to visit the rest. Iam, at times, almost 
iscouraged from attempting to gain any acquaintance 
ith the Indian languages, they are so very numerous ; 
yme account of which I gave in my diary of May last ; 
ad especially, seeing my other labors and fatigues en- 
ross almost the whole of my time, and bear exceed- 
igly hard upon my constitution, so that my health is 
juch impaired. However, I have taken considerable 
ains to learn the Delaware language, and propose still 
) do so, as far as my other business and bodily health 
‘illadmit. Ihave already made some profi¢iency in 
, though I have labored under many and great dis- 
lvantages in my attempts of that nature. It is but 
‘st to observe here, that all the pains I took to ac- 
laint myself with the language of the Indians with 
10m I spent my first year, were of little or no service 
)me here among the Delawares; so that my work, 
en I came among these Indians, was all to be begun 
4 

Ni As these poor ignorant pagans stood in need of 
pring ‘line upon line, and precept upon precept,’ in 
‘der to their being instructed and grounded in the 
jinciples of Christianity ; so I preached ‘ publicly, 
#d taught from house to house,’ almost every day for 
Nnole weeks together, when I was with them. My 
jjblic discourses did not then make up the one half of 
yy work, while there were so many constantly coming 


{me with that important inquiry, ‘What must we 
| 17 Brainerd, 


¥ 
t 


1y4 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 


do to be saved ?’ and opening to me the various 
ercises of their minds. Yet I can say, to the p ais 
divine grace, that the apparent success, with which 
labors were crowned, unspeakably more than com 
sated for the labor itself, and was likewise a 
means of supporting and carrying me through the 
siness and fatigues under which, it seems, my na 
would have sunk without such an encouraging p 
pect. But although this success has afforded matt 
support, comfort, and thankfulness ; yet in this se 
I have found great need of assistance in my work, 
have been much oppressed for want of one to be 
part of my labors and hardships. ‘ May the Lor 
the harvest send forth other laborers into this pai 
his harvest, that those who sit in darkness may 
great light ; and that the whole earth may be filled 4 


the knowledge of himself! Amen. ” 
as, 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Being part 2d of his public journal of “ the Continuane 
Progress of «remarkable work of grace among the Indiai 
New-Jersey and Pennsylvania, kept by order of the Sociel 
Scotland for propagating Christian knowledge.”—Renewi 
labor at Crossweeksung—oulpouring of the spirit—remar: 
case—signal displays of divine power—a convert—a nun 
Christian Indians accompany him to the Forks of Detaw 
striking conversion at Crossweeksung—day of fasting—Li 
supper—conversion of a Conjurer—zeneral remarks on the 
ceding narrative. 

Nov. 5, 1745.—June 19, 1746, 

Crossweeksung, New-Jersey, 1748 

Lord's day, Nov. 24.—“ Preached both parts of th 
day from the story of Zaccheus. Luke, 19: 1-9. I 


745.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 195 


e latter exercise, when I opened and insisted upon 
e salvation that comes to a sinner upon his beccming 
‘son of Abraham, or a true believer, the word seemed 
| be attended with divine power to the hearts of the 
varers. Numbers were much affected with divine 
ath; former convictions were revived ; one or two 
jrsons newly awakened ; and a most affectionate en- 
jgement in divine service appeared among them uni- 
‘sally. ‘The impressions they were under appeared 
ll genuine effect of God’s word brought home 
{their hearts by the power and influence of the Di- 
ve Spirit. 
ov. 26.—“ After having spent some time in private 
mferences with my people, I discoursed publicly 
siong them from John, 5: 1-9. I was favored with 
special freedom and fervency in my discourse, 
Ha powerful energy accompanied divine truth. 
\ny wept and sobbed affectionately, and scarcely any 
aseared unconcerned in the whole assembly. The 
wluence which seized the audience appeared gentle, 
ai yet pungent and efficacious. It produced no bois- 
ous commotion of the passions; but seemed deeply 
affect the heart, and excite in the persons under con- 
‘tions of their lost state, heavy groans and tears ; and 
others, who had obtained comfort, a sweet and hum- 
| melting. It seemed like the gentle but steady 
wers which effectually water the earth, without 
lently beating upon the surface. The persons lately 
‘akened were some of them deeply distressed for 
ir souls, and appeared earnestly solicitous to obtain 
interest in Christ ; and some of them, after public 
xship was over, in anguish of spirit, said ‘they 
2w not what to do, nor how to get their wicked 
uirts changed,’ &c. 


‘in his transfiguration, and filled with longing desir 


Be of 


196 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 


Nov, 28.—“ Discoursed to the Indians publicly, 
having used some private endeavors to instruct 
excite some in the duties of Christianity. Opened 
made remarks upon the sacred story of our L 
transfiguration. Luke, 9 : 28-36. Had a principal 
in insisting upon this passage of Scripture to the 
cation and consolation of God’s people. Obs 
some, that I have reason to think are truly such 
ceedingly affected with an account of the glory of O 


being with him, that they might with as face be 
his glory. 
“ After public service was over, I asked one of t! 
who wept and sobbed most affectionately, wha) 
now wanted? She replied, ‘O, to be with Cl 
She did not know how to stay, &c. This w 
blessed refreshing season to the religious people ir 
neral. The Lord Jesus Christ seemed to manife: 
divine glory to them, as when transfigured befor 
disciples ; and they were ready, with the disciples, 
versally to say, ‘ Lord it is good for us to be here. 
“ The inflnence of God’s word was not confin 
those who had given evidence of being truly grace’ 
though at this time I calculated my discourse fo 
directed it chiefly to such. But it appeared tc 
season of divine power in the whole assembly ; sc 
most were in some measure affected. One aged 
in particular, lately awakened, was now brought 1 
a deep and pressing concern for his soul, wa: Ss 
earnestly inquisitive ‘ how he might find Jest Chri 
God seems still to vouchsafe his divine presence 
the influence of his blessed Spirit to accompam 
word, at least in some measure, in all our meeting 
divine worship. 


| 


1745.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 197 


_ Nov. 30.—“ Preached near night, after having spent 
jome hours in private conference with some of my 
seople about their souls’ concerns. Explained the 
itory of the rich man and Lazarus. Luke, 16 : 19-26. 
The word made powerful impressions upon many in 
ihe assembly, especially while I discoursed of the bless- 
‘dness of Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom. This I could 
‘erceive affected them much more than what I spoke 
f the rich man’s misery and torments; and thus it has 
en usually with them. They have almost always 
ppeared much more affected with the comfortable 
1an the dreadful truths of God’s word. That which 
as distressed many of them under conviction is, that 
hey found they wanted and could not obtain the hap- 
iness of the godly ; at least they have often appeared 
)be more affected with this than with the terrors of 
ell. But whatever be the means of their awakening, 
is plain, numbers are made deeply sensibie of their 
‘m and misery, the wickedness and stubbornness_of 
lair own hearts, their utter inability to Help them- 
‘ives, or to come to Christ for help without divine 
‘jsistance, and so are brought to see their perishing 
eed of Christ to do all for them, and to lie at the foot 
sovereign mercy. 
\Lord’s day, Dec. 1.—“ Discoursed to my people in 
‘e forenoon from Luke, 16 : 27-81. There appeared 
4 unfeigned affection in many, and some seemed 
¢eply impressed with divine truth. In the afternoon 
eached to a number of white people 3 at which time 
e Indians attended with diligence, and many of them 
ere able to understand a considerable part of the dis- 
rse. At night discoursed to my people again, and 
ve them particular cautions and directions relating 
their conduct in divers respects, and pressed them 
| lie 


' 


B 


tae 
v 


-and who stood ready to draw them into temptations 


~ 


198 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. } 


to watehfulness in their deportment, see.ng they wen 
encompassed with those who waited for their haltiz 


every kind, and then to expose religion by apes m 
steps. 

Lord’s day, Dec. 8.—* Discoursed on the story 
the blind man. John, 9. There appeared no remé 
ble effect of the word upon the assembly at this tim 
The persons who have lately been much concerned! 
their souls seemed now not so affected or solicitou: 
obtain an interest in Christ as has been usual, altho 
they attended divine service with seriousness and 
gence. Such have been the doings of the Lord h 
in awakening sinners, and affecting the hearts 
those who are brought to solid comfort, with a f 
sense of divine things from time to time, that it isi 
strange to see the assembly sit with dry eyes, 
without sobs and groans. 

Dec. 12.—“ Preached from the parable of the 7 
Virgins. Matt. 25. The divine power seemed ins 
measure to attend this discourse; in which I was fay 
ed with uncommon freedom and plainness of addr 
and enabled to open divine truths, and explain fi] 
to the capacities of my people in a manner bey 
myself. There appeared in many persons an af 
tionate concern for their souls, although the cone 
in general seemed not so deep and pressing as it 
formerly done. Yet it was refreshing to see mé 
melted into tears and unaffected sobs; some will 
sense of divine love, and some for the want of it. 

Dec. 15.—“ Preached to the Indians from Luke 
13 : 24-28. Divine truth fell with weight and pow 
upon the audience, and seemed to reach the heart 
many. Near night discoursed to them again 


f 


| 


745.] ’ AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 199 


att. 25:81-46. At this season also the word ap- 
eared to be accompanied with a divine influence, and 
iade powerful impressions upon the assembly in gene- 


al, as well as upon numbers in a very special and par- 


nenet manner, ‘This was an amazing season of grace. 
‘he word of the Lord this day ‘ was quick and pow- 
‘ful, sharper than a two-edged sword,’ and pierced 
e hearts of many. The assembly was sreatly affect- 
i and deeply wrought upon; yet without so much 
parent commotion of the passions as appeared 1 in the 
»ginning of this work of grace. The impressions 
ade by the word of God upon the audience appeared 
‘lid, rational, and deep ; worthy of the solemn truths 
i means of which they were produced, and far from 
sing the effects of any sudden fright, or groundless 
*rturbation of mind. O how did the hearts of the 
sarers seem to bow under the weight of divine truth, 
id how evident did it now appear that they received 
ad felt them, ‘not as the word of man, but as the 
ord of God.’ None can form a just idea of the ap- 
jarance of our assembly at this time, but those who 
lve seen a congregation solemnly awed, and deeply 
Peso’ by the special power and influence of divine 
faiths delivered to them in the name of God. 

lec. 16.—“ Discoursed to my people i in the evening 
i Luke, 11: 1-13. After having insisted some time 
on the ninth verse, wherein there is a command and 
ecouragement to ask for the divine favor, I called 
‘on them to ask for a new heart with the utmost im- 
prtunity, as the man mentioned in the parable, on 
y 1ich I was discoursing, pleaded for loaves of bread 
1 midnight. There was much affection and concern 
ithe assembly, and especially one woman appeared 
igreat distress for her soul. She was brought to such! 
| 
| 


| 


200 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. w 


an agony in seeking after Christ, that the sweat 
off her face for a considerable time, though the 
ing was very cold; and her bitter cries were the 
‘ affecting indications of her heart. f 

Dec. 21.—“ My people having now attained 
considerable degree of knowledge in the principle 
christianity ; I thought it proper to set up a catechet 
cal lecture among them, and this evening attempte 
something in that form, proposing questions to the 
agreeably to the Assembly’s Shorter Catechism, t 
ceiving their answers, and then explaining and insis 
ing, as appeared necessary and proper upon each que 
tion. After this I endeavored to make some practic 
improvement of the whole.. This was the method 
entered upon. They were able readily and rationall 
to answer many important questions which I propose 
to them; so that upon trial I found their doctrin; 
knowledge to exceed my own expectations. In 4 
improvement of my discourse, when I came to inf 
and open the blessedness of those who have so gret 
and glorious a God as had before been spoken of, 
their everlasting friend and portion,’ several wer 
much affected; and especially when I exhorted, an 
endeavored to persuade them to be reconciled to € 
through his dear Son, and thus to secure an interesti 
his everlasting favor. So that they appeared not onl 
enlightened and instructed, but affected, and engag 
in their soul’s concerns by this method of discoursii 

Lord's day, Dec. 22.— Discoursed upon the stor 
of the young man in the Gospel. Matt. 9: 16-22. Ge 
made it a seasonable word, I am persuaded, to som 
souls, and in particular to one, the same mentioned i 
my journal of the 16th instant, who never before o 
tained any ‘settled comfort, though I have a 


\ 
(745. OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 201 


season to think she had passed a saving change some 
lays before. She now appeared in a heavenly frame 
of mind, composed and delighted with the divine will. 
When I came to discourse particularly with her, and 
0 inquire of her how she obtained relief and deliver- 
ince from the spiritual distresses which she had lately 
wuflered, she answered, in broken English, ‘Me try, 
ne try save myself ; last, my strength be all gone ; 
meaning her ability to save herself 3) could not me 
tir bit further. Den last me forced let Jesus Christ 
\lone send me hell, if he please.” 1 said, ‘But ae was 
lot willing to go to hell, was you?’ She repl ied, ‘ Could 
vot me helpit. My heart, he would wicked foe all. 
Dould not me make him swoad?: (meanimg, she saw it 
vas right she should go to hell, because her heart was 
vicked, and would be so after all she could do to mend 
+.) Lasked her how she got out of this case. She 
inswered still in the same broken language, ‘ By by, 
iy heart be glad desperately” I asked her why her 
leart was glad? She replied, ‘Glad my heart, Jesus 
Yhrist do what he please with me. Did not me care 
here he put me; love him for all, &c. She could not 
adily be convinced but that she was willing to go to 
‘ell if Christ was pleased to send her there; although 
pe truth evidently was, that her will was so swallowed 
Pin the divine will that She could not frame any hell 
n her imagination which would be dreadful or unde- 
irable, provided it was the will of God to send her to 
Toward night discoursed to them again in the 
latechetical method which I enterea upon the evening 
lefore. When I came to improve the truth which I 
jad explained to them, and to answer that question, 
‘But how shall I know whether God has chosen me te 
\verlasting life?’ by pressing them to come and give 


= 


al 
202 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 4 


up their hearts to Christ, and thereby ‘to make thei 
election sure,’ they then appeared much affected, 
the persons ‘under concern were afresh engaged j 
seeking after an interest in him; while some other. 
who had obtained comfort pola were refreshed { 
find that love to God in themselves which was an ey 
dence of his electing love to them. 
Dec. 25.—“ The Indians having been used on Christ 
mas days to drink and revel among some of the w 
people in these parts, I thought it proper this de 
call them together and discourse to them upon divin 
things; which I accordingly did from the parable o 
the barren fig-tree. Luke, 13 : 6-9. A divine influence 
I am persuaded, accompanied the word at this sea 
The power of God appeared in the assembly, no 
producing any remarkable cries, but by rousing severa 
stupid creatures who were scarcely ever moved will 
any concern before. The power attending divine tr 
seemed to have the influence of the earthquake raf 
than of the whirlwind upon them. Their passions w 
not so much alarmed as has been common here in tin 
past, but their judgments appeared to be powerfully 
convinced by the masterly and conquering influence of 
divine truth. The impressions made upon the ass 
bly in general, seemed not superficial, but deep, and 
heart affecting. O how ready did they now appear uni 
versally to embrace and eumply with every thi 
which they heard, and were convinced was their du 
God was in the midst of us, of a truth, bowing am 
melting stubborn hearts! How many tears and sobs 
were then to be seen and heard among us! What live- 
liness and strict attention! What eagerness and in 
tenseness of mind appeared in the whole assembly, i 
the time of divine service. They seemed to watch 


17465.] REMARKABLE CASE. : 203 


wait for the droppings of God’s word, as the thirsty 
zarth, for the ‘ former and latter rain.’ 
_ “ Afterward I discoursed to them on the duty of hus- 
dands and wives, from Eph. 5 : 22-33, and have reason 
to think this was a word in season. Spent some time 
further in the evening in inculcating the truths on 
which I had insisted in my former discourse, respect- 
ng the barren fig-tree ; and observed a powerful in- 
luence still accompany what was spoken. 
_ Dec, 26.—“ This evening was visited by a person un- 
ler great spiritual distress; the most remarkable in- 
jtance of this kind I ever saw. She was, I believe, 
more than fourscore years old; and appeared to be 
nuch broken and very childish, through age; so that 
seemed impossible for man to instil into her any no- 
ions of divine things ; not so much as to give her any 
loctrinal instruction, because she seemed incapable of 
eing taught. She was led by the hand into my house, 
md appeared in extreme anguish. I asked her what 
led her? She answered, ‘her heart was distressed, 
ind she feared she should never find Christ” I asked 
jer when she began to be concerned, with divers other 
luestions relating to her distress. To all which she 
nswered, for substance, to this effect: ‘ That she had 
eard me preach many times, but never knew any thing 
it, never felt it in her heart, till the last Sabbath, 
nd then it came, she said, ‘as if a needle had been 
irust into her heart ; since which time she had no rest 
ay nor night.’ She added, ‘ that on the evening before 
thristmas, a number of Indians being together, at the 
duse where shé was, and discoursing about Christ, 
veir talk pricked her heart so that she could not set UD, 
ut fell down in her bed ; at which time she went away,’ 
3 she expressed it, ‘and felt as if she dreamed, and 
; 
} “es i £ 


a LIFE OF BRAINERD, {Chap. 3 


yet 13 confident she did not dream. When she was th 
gone, she saw two palhs ; one appeared very br 
and crooked ; and that turned to the left hand. 
other appeared straig.it and very narrow ; and 
went up the hill to the right hand. She traveled,’ sl 
said, ‘for some time up the narrow right hand path 
at length something seemed to obstruct her jour 
She sometimes called it darkness ; and then describe 
otherwise, and seemed to compare it to a block or ba 
She then remembered whet she had heard me say ai 
striving to enter in at the straight gate, although 
took liltle notice of it ot the time when she heard me 
course upon that subject ; and. thought she would ¢ 
over this bar. But just as she was thinking of this 
came back again,’ as she termed it, meaning that 
came to herself; ‘whereupon her soul was extre 
distressed, apprehending that she had now turned b 
and forsaken Christ, and. that there was therefo 
hope of mercy for hen 

“ As I was sensible that trances, and imaginary vi 
of things are of dangerous tendency in religion, w! 
sought after and depended upon; so I could not butt 
much concerned about this exercise, especially at fi 
apprehending this might be a design of satan to b 
a blemish upon the work of God here, by introduc 
visionary scenes, imaginary terrors, and all mann 
mental disorders and delusions, in the room of genuit 
convictions of sin, and the enlightening influences 
the blessed Spirit; and I was almost resolved to deelar 
that I looked upon this to be one of satan’s device 
and to caution my people against this and similar 
ercises of that nature. However, I determined firs 
inquire into her knowledge, to see whether she I 
any, just views of things,that might be the occasion 


rte 


1745. a REMARKABLE CASE. 205 


« 

jer present distressing concern, or eeuieatiey it was a 
mere fright, arising only from imaginary terrors. I 
asked her numerous questions respecting man’s primi- 
ive, and more especially, his present state, and respect- 
ng her own -heart; which she answered rationally, 
ind to my surprise. I thought it next to impossible, if 
lot altogether so, that a Pagan, who was become a 
vhild through age, should in that state gain so much 
owledge by any mere human instruction, without 
‘eng remarkably enlightened by a divine influence. 
then proposed to her the provision made in the gos- 
vel for the salvation of sinners, and the ability and 
yillingness of Christ ‘to save to the uttermost all, old 
s well as young, that come to him.’ To this she 
med to give a hearty assent; but instantly replied, 
Ay, but I cannot come; my igh heart will not come 
? Christ ; Ido not know how to come, &c. This she 
poke in anguish of spirit, striking on her breast, with 
ears in her. eyes, and with such earnestness:in her 
doks as was indeed piteous and affecting. She seems 
» be really convinced of her sin and misery, and her 
eed of a change of heart. Her concern is abiding 
nd constant, so that nothing appears why this exer- 
fae may not have asaving issue. Indeed there seems 
2ason to hope such an issue, seeing she is so solicitous 

obtain an interest in Christ, that her heart, as she 
xpresses it, prays day and nih 
| “How far God may make use of the imagination in 

akening some persons under these, and similar cir- 
umstances, I cannot pretend todetermine. Or, wheth- 
i this exercise be from a divine influence, I shall leave 
thers to judge. But this I must say, that its effects 
itherto bespeak it to be such; nor can it, as I see, be 


ecounted for in any rational way, but from the influ- 
} 18 Brainerd, 


I am sure never heard divine things in the mang 
which she now viewed them; and it would 
strange that she should get such a rational notic 
them from the mere working of her own fancy, 4 
out some superior, or at least foreign aid. Yet I 
say, [have looked upon it as one of the glories of 
work of grace among the Indians, and a special 
dence of its being from a divine influence, that 
has, till now, been no appearance of such thing 
visionary notions, trances, andimaginations, inte 
with those rational convictions of sin,.and sola eo 
lations, of which numbers have been made the subj 
And might I have had my desire, there had bee 
appearance of any thing of this nature at all. 
Dec. 28.“ Discoursed to my people in the cateel 
cal method on which I lately entered. In the imp 
ment of my discourse, wherein I was comparing m 
present with his primitive state, and showir.g 
what he had fallen, and the miseries in which he is 
involved, and to which he is exposed in his natu 
tate; and pressing sinners to take a view of thei 
plorable circumstances without Christ, as also to s 
that they might obtain an interest in him; the 
Arust, granted a remarkable influence of k.’s ble 
Spirit to accompany what was spoken; and ag 
concern appeared in the assembly. Many were r 
ed into tears and sobs; and the impressions made I 
on them seemed deep and heart-affeeting. In partie: 
lar, there were two or three persons who appeare 
be brought to the last exercises of a preparatory ¥ 
and reduced almost to extremity; being in a great 1 
sure convinced of the impossibility of their help 
themselves, or of mending their own hearts; and se 


% 


ae 


’ 


M5. ' ourrounine OF THE SPIRIT. 207 


ed to be upon the point of giving up all hope in them- 
selves, and of venturing upon Christ, as poor, helpless, 
ad undene. Yet they were in crstress and anguish 
yecause they saw no safety in so doing, unless they 
sould do something toward saving themselves. One 
of these persons was the very aged woman above-men- 
‘ioned, who now appeared ‘weary and heavy laden’ 
vith a sense of her sin and misery, and her pi Pisuiag 
ieed of an interest in Christ. 

| Lor@s day, Dec. 29.—“ Preached from John, 3: 1-5. 
" numer of white people were present, as is usual up- 
ntheSabhath. 'The discourse was accom panied with 
/ower, and seemed to have a silent, but deep and 
‘iercing influence upon the audience. Many wept 
md sobbed affectionately. There were some tears 
mong the white people as well asthe Indians. Some 
ould not refrain from crying out; though there were 
oi many so exercised. But the im pressions made up- 
m their hearts appeared chiefly by the extraordinary 
arnestness of their attention, and their heavy sighs 
ad tears. 

“After public worship was over I went to my house, 
roposing to preach again after a short seasonof inter- 
lission. But they soon came in, one after another, 
it® tears in their eyes, to know ‘ antl they should do 
|7e saved.” ‘The divine Spirit in such a manner set 
oire upon their hearts what I spake to them that the 
duse was soon filled with cries and groans. They all 
deked together upon this occasion; and those, whom 
fnad reason to think in a Christless state, were almost 
fiversally seized with concern for their souls. It was 
4 amazing season of power among them; and seemed 
; if God had bowed the heavens and cine down. So 
rence asic, Sp was the operation upon old as 


tae 


208 LIFE OF BRAINERD. — (Chap. 


well a8 young, that it seemed as if none would be © 
in a secure and natural state, but that God was 
about to convert all the world. I was ready to thi 
then, that I should never again despair of the con 
sion of any man or woman living, be they who or ¥ 
they would. 
“Jt is impossible to give a just and lively deserir 
of the appearance of things at this season; at least 
as to convey a bright and adequate idea of tl 
fects of this influence. A number might now be si 
rejoicing that God had not taken away the powel 
influence of his blessed Spirit from this place; refres 
to see so many striving to enter in at the strait g 
and animated with such concern for them, thatt 
wanted to push them forward, as some of them expr 
ed it. At the same time numbers both of men and 
men, old and young, might be seen in tears; and s¢ 
in anguish ofspirit, appearing in their very counten 
ces like condemned malefactors bound toward 
place of execution, with a heavy solicitude sitting 
their faces; so that there seemed here, as I thoug 
lively emblem of the solemn day of account: a1 
ture of heaven and hell; of joy and anguish ine 
sible. 
“The concern and religious affection was such, 
I could not pretend to have any formal religious 
cise among them; but spent the time in discoursin 
one and another, as I thought most proper and sez 
able for each ; and sometimes addressed them altogi 
er; and finally concluded with prayer. Such were 
circumstances at this season,that I could scarcely 
half an hour’s rest from speaking, from about hal 
hour before twelve o’clock, at which time I began f 
lie worship, till after seven at night. There appe 


¥ 


\746.] OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 209 


be four or five persons newly awakened this day 
ind the evening before; some of whom but very lately 
vame among us. 
| Dec. 30. “Was visited by four or five young per- 
‘ons under concern for their souls; most of whom 
vere very lately awakened. They wept much while 
t discoursed with them and endeavored to press upon 
hem the necessity of flying to Christ without delay 
‘or salvation. 
| Dec. 31.—“Spent.some hours this day in visiting my 
eople from house to house, and conversing with them 
bout their spiritual concerns; endeavoring to press up- 
mChristless souis the necessity of a renovation of heart; 
nd scarce left a house without leaving some or other 
if its inhabitants in tears, appearing solicitously en- 
a to obtain an interest in Christ. 

“The Indians are now gathered together from all 
uarters to this place, and have built them little cotta- 
es, so that more than twenty families live within a 
Decter of a mile from me. A very convenient situa- 
ion with regard both to public and private instruction. 
| Jan. 1, 1746.—Spent considerable time in visiting 
ny people again. Found scarcely one but what was 
inder some serious impressions respecting their spiri- 
ial concerns. 
. Jan. 2.—“ Visited some persons newly come among 
is, who had scarce ever heard any thing of Christia- 
\ity before, except the empty name. Endeavored to in- 
‘truct them, particularly in the first principles of reli- 
sion, in the most easy and familiar manner I could. 
Chere are strangers from remote parts, almost continu- 
ily dropping in among us, so that I have occasion re- 
paatedly, to open and inculeate the fat principles of 
Zhristianity. 


) 


18 


210 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 


Jan, 4.— Prosecuted my catechetical method of 
structing. Found my people able to answer questia 
with propriety, beyond what could have been expee 
from persons so lately brought out of heathenish d 
ness. In the improvement of my discourse there 
peared some concern and affection in the assembly 
and especially in those of whom I entertained hop 
as being truly gracious, at least several of them wi 
much affected and refreshed. 

Lord's day, Jan. 5.—“ Discoursed from Matt. 12 + 
-13. There appeared not so much liveliness and affe 
tion in divine service as usual. The same truths whie 
have often produced many tears and sobs in the 
sembly seemed now to have no special influence up¢ 
any init. Near night I proposed to have proceede 
in my usual method of eatechising ; but while we vy 
engaged in the first prayer, the. power of God seem 
to descend upon the assembly in such a remarks 
manner, and so many appeared under pressing cc 
cern for their souls, that I thought it much more ¢ 
pedient to insist upon the plentiful provision made 
divine grace for the redemption of perishing sinner 
and to press them to a speedy acceptance of the , 
salvation, than to ask them questions about doctri 
points. "What was most practical seemed most sé 
sonable’ to be insisted upon, while numbers appeared 
so extraordinarily solicitous to obtain an interest 
the great Redeemer. 

“This day the woman mentioned i in my journal of 
December 22, made a public profession of her faith. 
She has envend a very sweet and heavenly frame 
of mind from time to time, since her first reception of 
comfort. One morning in particular, she came to see 
me, discovering an unusual joy and satisfaction in I 


Ws as 


| 
146.] OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 211_ 


yintenance ; and when I inquired into the reason of 
she replied, ‘that God had made her feel that it was 
sht for him to do what he pleased with all things; 
a that it would be right if he should cast her hae! 
sid and son both into hell; and she saw it was so 
tht for God to do what he ieee with them, that 
e could not but rejoice in God even if he should send 
2m into hell ;’ though it was apparent she loved them 
arly. She moreover inquired whether I was not sent 
preach to the Indians by some good people a great 
y off. I replied, ‘ Yes, by the good people in Scot- 
d.’ She answered, ‘that her heart loved those good 
dple so the evening before, that she could scarce help 
ying for them all night, her heart would go to God 
‘them’ Thus, the blessing of those ready to perish, 
ike to come upon those pious persons who have 
nmunicated of their substance to the propagation of 
+ Gospel. 
Lord’s day, Jan. 12.—“ Preached from Isaiah, 55 : 
The word of God seemed to fall upon the audiences j 
hb a divine oan and influence, and evidently ap- 
‘ to be ‘not the word of man.’ The blessed 


rit, I am persuaded, accompanied what was spoken 

he hearts of many; so that there was a powerful 
val of conviction in numbers who were wee spiri- 
exer-ises before. 

Toward night catechised in my ate method. 
x close of my discourse there appeared a great 
‘cern, and much affection in the audience ; which 
peased while I continued to invite them to come to 
-Sufficient Redeemer for eternal salvation. The 
rit of God seems, from time to time, to be striving 
1souls here. They are so frequently and repeated- 
oused, that they seem unable at Loos so to lull 
nse asleep. \ ' 


212°" LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. | 


Jan. 13.—“ Was visited by several persons Ul 
deep concern for their souls; one of whom was new! 
awakened. It isa most agreeable work to treat wi 
souls who are solicitously inquiring. Swhat they § 
do to be saved.’ As we arenever to be ‘ weary in 
doing,’ so the obligation seems to be peculiarly st 
when the work is so very desirable. Yet I must 
my health is so much impaired, and my spiri 
wasted with my labors and solitary manner of li ; 
there being no human creature in the house with 
that their repeated and almost incessant applic 
to me for help ‘and direction, are sometimes exe 
ingly burdensome, and so exhaust my spirits th 
become fit for nothing at all, entirely unable to pi 
cute my business, sometimes for days together. 
contributes much toward this difficulty is, tha’ 
obliged to spend much time in communicating a 
matter to them; there being oftentimes many 
to be premised before I can speak directly to W 
principally-aim at; which things would readily be 
for granted where there was a competency of ¢ 
nal knowledge. 4 

Jan. 14.— Spent some time in private confe1 
with my people, and found some disposed to take | 
fort, as I thought, upon slight grounds. They ar 
generally awakened, and it is become so disgra 
as well as terrifying to the conscience, to be des 
of religion, that they are in imminent danger of t 
up with an appearance of grace, rather than t 
under the fear and disgrace of an unregenerated ‘sta 

Jan. 18.—* Prosecuted my catechetical meth 
discoursing. There appeared a great solemni LY, 2 
“some considerable affection in the assembly, 
method of instruction I find very profitable. 


he 


746. OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 213 


rst entered upon it I was exercised with fears, lest 
y discourses would unavoidably be so doctrinal that 
y would tend only to enlighten the head, but not to 
fect the heart. But the event proved quite otherwise ; 
ry these exercises have hitherto been remarkably 
essed in the latter, as well as the former respects. 
Lord's day, Jan. 19.—“ Discoursed to my people 
mm Isaiah, 55:7. Toward night catechised in my 
idinary method ; and this appeared to be a powerful 
On of grace among us. Numbers were much af- 
ted. Convictions were powerfully revived, and 
ristians refreshed and strengthened ; and one weary, . 
avy laden soul, I have abundant reason to hope, 
ought to true rest and solid comfort in Christ ; who 
erward gave me such an account of God’s desing 
th his soul as was abundantly satisfying, as well as 
freshing to me. 
“He told me he had often heard me say that per- 
as must see and feel themselves utterly helpless and 
done—that they, must be emptied of a dependence 
‘on themselves, and of all hope of saving themselves, ° 
order to their coming to Christ for salvation. He 
d long been striving after this view of things ; sup- 
sing that this would be an excellent frame of mind, 
‘be thus emptied of a dependence upon his own good- 
38; that God would have respect to this frame, would 
+n be well pleased with him, and bestow eternal life 


all his thoughts and expectations ; so that it was not 
same frame, nor indeed any: thing like the frame 
ler which he had been seeking. Instead of its being 
ood frame of mind, he now found nothing but bad- 
bs in himself, and saw it was for ever impossible for 


A 


214 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 


him to make himself any better. He wondered, he 
that he had ever hoped to mend his own heart. 
was amazed that he had never before seen that i 
utterly impossible for him, by all nis contrivances 
endeavors, to do any thing in that way, since the 1 
ter now appeared to him in so clear a light. Ins 
of imagining now that God would be pleased » 
him for the sake of this frame of mind, and this } 
of his undone estate, he saw clearly, and felt th 
would be just with God to send him to eternal mis 
and that there was no goodness in what he then ; 
for he could not help seeing that he was naked, sit 
and miserable, and that there was nothing in sue 
sight to deserve God’s love or pity. 
“He saw these things in a manner so clear and ¢ 
vincing, that it seemed to him, he said, he could ¢ 
vince every body of their utter inability to help th 
selves, and their unworthiness of any help from 
In this frame of mind he came to public worship 
evening; and while I was inviting sinners to co 
Christ naked and empty, without any goodness of 
own to recommend them to his acceptance, then 
thought with himself that he had often tried to ec 
and give up his heart to Christ, and he used to h 
that some time or other he should be able to do 
but now he was convinced that he could not, an 
seemed utterly vain for him ever to try any more; 
he could not, he said, find a heart to make any fur 
attempt, because he saw it would signify nothin 
all; nor did he now hope for a better opportunity 
more ability hereafter, as he had formerly done, be 
eause he saw and was fully convinced that his a 
strength would for ever fail. a 
“While he was musing in this manner he saw, 


— 


is a 
746.) _ OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 215 


aid, with his heart, (which is acommon phrase among 
iem,) something that was unspeakably good and love- 
*, and what he had never seen before ; and ‘ this stole 
ee his heart whether he would or no” He did not, 
2 said, know what it was he saw. He did not say 
his is Jesus Christ ;’ but it was such glory and beauty 
he never saw before. He did not now give away 
heart, as he had formerly intended and attempted 
do; but it went away of itself after that glory he 
m discovered. He used to make a bargain with 
to give up his heart to him that he might have 
life for it. But now he thought nothing about 
If or what would become of him hereafter ; but 


: pleased,’and his mind wholly taken up with the 


peakable excellency of what he then beheld. After 

ie time he was wonderfully pleased with the way 
alvation by Christ; so that it seemed unspeakably 
sirable to be saved altogether by the mere free grace 
God in him. The consequence of this exercise is, 
i appears to retain a sense and relish of divine 
, and to maintain a life of seriousness and true 


- 28.—“ The Indians in these parts have, in times 
tun themselves in debt by their excessive drink- 
3 and some have taken the advantage of them, and 
them to trouble and charge, by arresting some of 
n; whereby it was supposed their hunting lands in 
t part were much endangered, and might speedily 
en from them. Being sensible that they could 

‘subsist together. in these parts, in order to their 
ig a Christian congregation, if these lands should 
faken, which was thought very likely; I thought it 

(duty to use my utmost endeavors to prevent so un-. 
py an event. Having acquainted the gentlemen 


216 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chs 


concerned in this mission with the affair, accordi 
the best information I could get of it, they thou 
proper to expend the money which they had beer 
still were collecting for the religious interest 
Indians, at least a part of it, for discharging their deb 
and securing these lands, that there might be no 
glement lying upon them to hinder the settlemen 
hopeful enlargement of a Christian congregation of | 
dians in these parts. Having received orders fromt 
I answered in behalf of the Indians, eighty-two po 
five shillings, New-Jersey currency, at eight sha 
per ounce ; and so prevented the danger or diff 
in this respect. 
“ As God has wrought a wonderful work of ; 
among these Indians, and now inclines others 
remote places to fall inamong them almost contin 
and as he has opened a door for the prevention ¢ 
difficulty now mentioned, which seemed great 
threaten their religious interests as well as 
comforts; it is to be hoped that he designs to est 
a church for himself among them, and hand 
true religion to their posterity. 
Jan. 30.—“ Preached to the Indians from Jo 
16,17. There was a solemn attention and some 
tion visible in the audience; especially several pe 
who had long been concerned for their souls, se 
afresh excited and engaged in seeking after an ini 
in Christ. One, with much concern, afterward to 
‘his heart was so pricked with my preaching he 
not where to turn or what to do.’ - 
Jan. 31.—“This day the person whom I had h 
choice of and engaged for a school master amongt 
dians arrived among us, and was heartily weleom 
my people universally. Whereupon! distributed seve 
dozen of primers among the children and young peo; 


nitirt. ‘ 3 } 


t 
46.) SCHOOL ESTABLISHED. 217 


Py b. 1—“ My schoolmaster entered upon his busi- 
iss among the Indians. He has generally about thirty 
ildren and young persons in his school in the day 
he and about fifteen married people in the evening 
1001, The number of married persons being less 
in it would be if they could be more constantly at 

e, and could spare time from their necessary em- 
ryments for an attendance upon these instructions. 
‘In the evening catechised in my usual method. 
ward the close of my discourse a surprising power 
smed to attend the word, especially to some persons. 
e man. considerably in years, who had been a re- 
rkable drunkard, a conjurer and murderer, and was 
a) kened some months before, was now brought to 
at extremity under his spiritual distress; so that he 
m bled for hours together, and apprehended himself 
| { dropping into hell, without any power to rescue 
Telieve himself. preity others appeared under 
i concern, as well as he, and solicitous to obtain 


lord's day, Feb. 2.—* Preached from John, 5: 24, 
| There appeared, as usual, some concern and affez- 
in theassembly. Toward night proceeded in my 
al method of catechising.. Observed my people 
re ready in answering tne questions proposed to 
o than ever before. It,1s apparent they advance 
‘y in doctrinal knowledge. But what is still more 
arable, the Spirit of God is yet operating among 
m; whereby experimentai as well as speculative 
Wwledge is propagated in their minds. 

“eb. 5.—“ Diseoursed to a considerable number of 
i ans in the evening ; at whichtime numbers of them 
jeared much affected and melted with divine things. 
‘eb, 8.—“ Spent a considerable part of the day in 
19 Brainey!. 


ee 
‘ thes. ™ 


218 “LYFE OF BRALNERD. 


tio 


visiting my people from house to house, and cony, 
with them about their souls concerns. Many p 
wept, while I discoursed to them, and appeared 
cerned for nothing so much as for an interest. 
great Redeemer. In the evening catechised as 
Divine truth made some impressions upon the 
ence; and were attended with an affectionate e 
ment of soul in some. € 

Lord’s day, Feb. 9.— Discoursed to my people 
the story of the blind man. Matt. 10: 46-52. 
word of God seemed weighty, and powerful upo 
assembly at this time, and made considerable ir 
sions upon many; sevebal in particular, who 
generally been remarkably stupid and careless 
‘the means of grace, were now awakened, and we 
fectionately. The most earnest attention, as we 
ienderness and affection, appeared in the audience 
versally. ‘Two persons publicly professed Christ, 

“Toward night catechised. God made this a pe 
ful season tosome. ‘There were many affected. 
mer convictions appeared to be powerfully rey 
There was likewise one, wha had been a vile drun 
remarkably awakened. He appeared to be in 
anguish of soul, wept, and trembled, and continu 
do so till near midnight, There was also a poor h 
laden soul, who had been long under heavy distre 
constant, a pressing as I ever saw, who was 
brought to a comfortable calm, and seemed 
bowed and recorfciled to the divine sovereignty 
told me she now felt and saw that it was righ 
. God to do with her as he pleased; and that her’ 

felt pleased and satisfied it should be $03, althoug 
late she had often found her heart rise and quarrel 
God because he would, ¢f he ae send her to 


| ‘ J ee es a rhea 
} té 


746.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. ~ 219 


= 


‘ter all she had done. She added that the heavy 
arden she had lain under was now removed ; that she 
ad tried to recover her concern and distress again, — 
aring that the Spirit of God was departing from her, 
id would leave her wholly careless, but that she could 
bt recover it; that she felt she never could do any 
sing to save herself, but must perish for ever if Christ 
d not do all for her; that she did not deserve he 
hould help her ; and that it would be right if he should 
ave her to perish. But Christ could save her though 
e could do nothing to save herself, &c. and here she 
emed to rest.” 

h 


Forks of Delaware, February, 1746. 
Lérd@s day, Feb. 16.—“ Knowing that numbers of 
e Indians in these parts were obstinately set against 
hristianity ; ; and that some of them had refused to 
‘ar me preach in times past; I thought it might be * 
oper and beneficial to the Christian interest here to 
ve a number of my religious people from Cross- 
eksung with me, to converse with them about reli- 
us matters ; hoping it might be a means to convince 
em of the truth and importance of Christianity, to 
and hear some of their own nation discoursing of 
vine things; and manifesting earnest desires that 
ers might be brought out of heathenish darkness, 
| themselves were. For this purpose I selected half 
ozen of the most serious and intelligent of those 
dians, and having brought them to the Forks of De- 
jware, I this day met with them and the Indians of 
tis place. Numbers of the latter probably could not 
ve been prevailed upon to attend this meeting, had 
inot been for these religious Indians who accompa- 
d me hither, and preached to them, Some of those 


’ to be somewhat awakened, . manifested ¢ pa 


‘ 
220 LIFE OF PRAINERD. (Chap 


who had in times past been extremely averse to 
tianity, now behaved soberly; and some others lai 
and mocked. However, the word of God fel] wit! 
weight and power, that numbers seemed to be stu 
and expressed a willingness to hear me again of 
matters. : 
“Afterward prayed with, and made an address 
“white people present ; and could not but observe 
visible effects of the word, such as tears and 
“among them. After publie worship, spent some 
and took pains to convinee those that mocked ¢ 
truth and importance of what I had been in: 
upon ; and so endeavored to awaken their attenti 
divine truth. Had reason to think, from what 
served then and afterward, that my endeavors 
considerable effect upon one of the worst of them 
“ "These few Indians then present, who used 
my hearers in these parts, some having removed 
to Crossweeksung, seemed somewhat kindly dis 
toward me, and glad to see me again. They had 
so much attacked, however, by some of the opp 
Pagans, that they were almost ashamed or afr 
manifest their friendship. 
Feb. 17.—“ After having spent much time i 
coursing to the Indians in their respéctive hot 
got them together and repeated cea 
had before taught them. Afterward discourse 
them from Acts, 8 : 5-8. A divine influence seem 
attend the word. Several of the Indians here app 


tears and sobs. My people of Crossweeksung 
tinued with them day and night repeating and it 
cating the truths I had taught them; and some 
prayed and sung psalms among them; dis 


1746.] AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 221 


with each other in their hearing, of the great things 
God had done for them and for the Indians from 
whence they came. This seemed, as my people told 
me, to have more effect upon them than when they 
lirected their discourse immediately to them. 

_ Feb. 18.—‘ Preached to an assembly of Irish peo- 
ie nearly pai miles distant from the Indians. f 
| Feb. 19.—“ Preached to the Indians again, after 
aving spent considerable time in conversing with 
hem more privately. ‘There appeared a great solem= 
lity, and some concern and affection among the In- 
ians belonging to these parts, as well as a sweet melt- 
Es among those who came with me. Numbers of the 
no. here seemed to have their prejudices and aver- 


on to Christianity removed ; and appeared well dis- 
‘osed, and inclined to hear ie word of God. 
| Feb. 20.—“ Preached to a small assembly of High 
lutch people, who had seldom heard the Gospel 
reached, and were some of them, at least, very igno- 
ant ; but numbers of them have lately eee put upon 
t inquiry after the way ef Salvation with thoughtful- 
ess. They gave wonderful attention; and some of 
em were much affected under the word, and after- 
lard said, as F was informed, that they never had been 
much enlightened about the way of Salvation in 
et whole lives before. They requested me to tarry 
ith them, or come again and preach to them. It 
om me that I could not comply with their request, 


ould not but be affected with their circumstances ; 
ir they were as ‘sheep not having a shepherd,’ and 
yme of them appeared under some degree of distress 
v sin; standing in peculiar need of the assistance of 4 
1 eecienced spiritual guide. 
lad 21.—Preached to a number of people, many of 
19* 


| 


222 ] LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. VI 


them Low Dutch. Several of the fore-mentioned Hi 
Dutch people attended the sermon, though eight o | 
‘ miles distant from their houses. Numbers of t 
dians also belonging to these parts came of their 0 
“accord with my people from Crossweeksung, to 
meeting. ‘There were two in particular who, thou 
the last Sabbath they opposed and ridiculed ‘Chr 
tianity, now behaved soberly. May the present ¢ 
couraging appearances continue! 
Feb. 22.—“ Preached to the Indians. They appear 
more free from prejudice and more cordial to Chr 
tianity than before; and some of them appeared ai 
ed with divine truth. {4 
Lord’s day, Feb. 23.—“ Preached to the Iné 
from John, 6 : 35-37. After public service disco 
particularly with several of them, and invited them) 
go down to Crossweeksung and tarry there at least fi 
some time; knowing that they would then be ff 

i from the scoffs and temptations of the opposing 
gans, as well as in the way of hearing divine 
discoursed of, both in public and private. Obtaine 
promise of some of them that they would speedily pa 
us a visit, and attend some farther instructions. Tht 
seemed to be considerably enlightened, and miu 
freed from their prejudices against Christianity. 
it is much to be feared that their prejudices will re} 
again,unless they can enjoy the means of insirue 
here, or be removed where they may be under sii¢ 

advantages, and out of the: “atu of their Pagan 
£ quaintances. , 
1 ae Croasweeksung, March, 1746. 
me's “March, 1.—“ Catechised in my ordinary meth 
Was pleased and refreshed to see them answe 
questions proposed to them with such remarkabl 


746.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 223 


eadiness, discretion, and knowledge. Toward the 
lose of my discourse divine truth made considerable 
mpression upon the audience, and produced tears and 
bs in some under concern ; and more especially a 
weet and humble melting in several, who, I have rea- 
bn to hope, were truly gracious. 
' Lord’s day, March 2.—Preached from John, 15: 16. 
‘he assembly appeared not so lively in their attention 
s usual, nor so much affected with divine truth in 
eneral as has been common. Some of my people 
fae went up to the Forks of the Delaware with me, 
2ing now returned, were accompanied by two of the 
idians belonging to the Forks who had promised me 
peedy visit. May the Lord meet with them here. 
ey can scarcely go into a house now but they will 
et with Christian conversation, whereby it is to be 
ped they may be both instructed and awakened. 
*Discoursed to the Indians again in the aftérnoon, 
d observed among them some animation and enga- 
dness in divine service, though not equal to what 
Often appeared here. I know of no assembly of 
Tistians where there seems to be so much of the 
Sence.of God, where brotherly love so much pre- 
ls, and where I should take so much delight in the 
lic worship of God in general, as in My OWN con- 
ation ; although not more than nine months ago, 
by were worshipping devils and dumb idols under 
> power of Pagan darkness and superstition. Amaz- 
if change this! effected by nothing less than divine 
iad and grace. This is the doing of the Lord, and 
justly marvellous in our eyes. Fg 
Warch 5.—“ Spent some time just at evening in 
yer, singing and discoursing to my people upon di- ' 
e things ; and observed some agreeable tenderness 


| 


224 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 


and affection among them. ‘Their present situati 
so compact and commodious, that they are easily 
quickly called together with only the sound of a eo; 
shell, (a shell like that of a periwinkle,) so that 1 
have frequent opportunities of attending religious 
ercises publicly. ‘This seems to be a great me 
- under God, of keeping alive the eens of dit 
things in their minds. 
March 8.—“ Catechised in the evening. My pe 
answered the questions proposed to them well. 1 
perceive their knowledge in religion increases di 
And, what is still more desirable, the divine influe 
which has been so remarkable among them, app 
still to continue, in some good measure. The di 
presence seemed .to be in the assembly this ever 
“Some, who I have good reason to think are C 
tans indeed, were melted with a sense of divine g 
ness and their own barrenness and ingratitude 
. seemed to hate themselves, as one of them afte 
expressed it. Convictions also appeared to be re} 
in several instances; and divine truth was ati e! 
with suth influence upon the assembly in general 
it might justly,be called an evening of divine pow 
Lords’ day, March 9.—“ Preached from Luke, 
38-42. The word of God was attended with p 
and energy upon the audience. Numbers were ai 
ed, and concerned to obtain the one thing nee 
Séveral, who have given good evidence of being 
gracious, were much affected with a sense of their 
of spirituality, and saw the need they stood inof g 
ing in grace. The greater part of those who had 
under any impressions of divine things in time 
seemed now to have those impressions revived. 
“Jn the afternoon proposed to have catechised 


746.) "a CONVERT. 225 


iy usual method: but, while we were engaged in the 
rst prayer in the Indian language, as usual, a great 
ofthe assembly was so much moved and affected 
ith divine things that I thought it seasonable and 
yper to omit the proposing of questions for that time, 
to insist upon the most practical truths. I ac- 
rdingly did so; making a further improvement of 
€ passage of Scripture on which I had discoursed in 
e former part of the day. There appeared to be a 
werful divine influence in the congregation. Seve- 
1 who, as I have reason to think, are truly pious, 
= so deeply affected with a sense of their own bar- 
ess, and their unworthy treatment of the blessed 
leemer, that they looked on him as pierced by them- 
yes, and mourned, yea, some of them were in. bit- 
ess, as for a first-born. 
“Some poor awakened sinners, also, appeared to be 
‘@nguish of soul to obtain an interest in Christ ; so 
at there was a geal mourning in the dacemitly : 
any heavy groans, sobs, and tears! and one or two, 
fwly come among us, were considerably awakened. 
* Methinks it would have refreshed the heart of eny, 
oO truly love Zion’s interests, to have been in the 
of this divine influence, and seen the effects of it 
jon saints and sinners. The place of divine worship 
ppeared both solemn and sweet; and was so endeared 


bse who had any relish for divine things could not 
ery, ‘How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of 
is? After public worship was over, numbers came 
my house, where we sang and discoursed of divine 
mgs; and the presence of God seemed here also to 


While we were singing there was one individual, 


226 LIFE OF BRAINERD. * [Chap. 


the woman mentioned in my journal of Februe 
who, I may venture to say, if I may be allowed c 
so much of any person I ever saw, was ‘ filled wit 
unspeakable and full of glory; .and could not but 
forth in prayer and praises to God before us all, 
many tears; crying, sometimes in English and § 
times in Indian, ‘ O blessed Lord! do come, do ¢ 
O do take me away; do let me, die, and go to 
Christ !. Iam afraid if I live I shall sin again. — 
let me die now! O dear Jesus, do come! I cannot 
I cannot stay! O how can I live in this world ; do 
my soul away from this sinful place! O let me nev 
any more! O what shall I do, what shall I do, 
sus. O dear Jesus! Yn this eestacy she cont 
some time, uttering these and similar expressio! 
cessantly. The grand argument she used with G 
take her away immediately was, that ‘if she livet 
should sin against him.’ When she had a little r 
ered herself, I asked her if Christ was now swe 
her soul? Whereupon, turning to me with tears i 
eyes, and with all the tokens of deep humility I 
saw in any person, she said, ‘I have many times 
you speak of the goodness and the sweetness of C] 
that he was better than all the world. But OT} 
nothing what you meant. Inever believed you, 
er believed you! But now I know it is true; or 
to that effect. I answered, ‘And do you see enoug 
Christ for the greatest of sinners?’ She repli 
enough, enough for all the sinners in the world, i 
“ would but come.’ When I asked her, ‘If she ¢ 
not tell them of the goodness of Christ.’ 
herself about to some Christless souls, who stoot 
and were much affected, she said, ‘O there is en 
in Christ for you if you would but come. O 
& 


ge 


746) A CONVERT, 227 


rive to give up your hearts to him,’ &c._ On hearing 
miething of the glory of heaven mentioned, that 
(ere was no sin in that world; she again fell into the 
me ecstacy of joy and desire of Christ’s coming; re- 
sating her former expressions, ‘O dear Lord, do let 
e go! O what shall I do; what shall I do. I want 
goto Christ. I cannot veh: Odo lepine die,” &c. 
She continued in this sweet frame for more than two 
urs before she was able to get home. I am very 
nsible that there may be great joys, arising even to 
ecstasy, where there is still no substantial evidence 
‘their being well grounded. But in the present ease 
ere seemed to be no evidence wanting in order to 
ve this joy to be divine; either in regard to its pre- 
atives, attendants, or consequents. 

fall the persons whom I have seen under spiritual 
reise I scarcely ever saw one appear more bowed 
broken under convictions of sin and misery, or 
iat is usually called a preparatory work, than this 
an; nor scarcely any who seemed to. have a 
ter acquaintance with their own heart than she 
d. She would frequently complain to me of the 
edness and rebellion of hcr heart. Would tell me 
t her heart rose and quarrelled with God, when 

+thdught he would do with her as he pleased, and 

id her to hell, notwithstanding her prayers, good 

es, &c., and that her heart was not willing to 

e to Christ for Salvation, but tried every where 

for help. As she seemed to be remarkably sensi- 

of her stubbornness and contrariety to God, under 

viction, so she appeared to be no less remarkably 

ed and reconciled to his sovereignty, before she 

ined any relief or comfort; something of which I 

€ noticed in my journal of Feb. 9. Since that time 


_— 


| 


| 


ae be ’ 


228 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 


she has seemed constantly to breathe the temper 
spirit of the new creature; crying after Chris 
through fear of hell as before, but with strong des 
after him as her only satisfying portion ; and has m 
times wept and sobbed bitterly because, as she af 
hended, she did not and could not love him. Wh 
have sometimes asked her why she appeared so 
rowful, and whether it was because she was afra 
hell; she would answer ‘No, I be not distressed al 
that ; but my heart is so wicked I cannot love Chr 
and thereupon burst into tears. But although t is 
been the habitual frame of her mind for several w 
together, so that the exercise of grace appeared evi 
to others; yet she seemed wholly insensible to it 
self, and never had any remarkable comfort and s 
ble satisfaction until this evening. ia 
“This sweet and surprising ecstasy appeare 
spting from a true spiritual discovery of the ¢ 
ravishing beauty, and excellency of Christ; an¢ 
from any gross imaginary notions of his human né 
such as that of seeing him in such a place, or p Os 
as hanging on the cross, as bleeding and dying, as 
ly smiling, and the like; which delusions some | 
been carried away with. Nor did it rise from s¢ 
selfish apprehensions of her having any benefit 
soever conferred on her; but from a view of his 
sonal excellency and transcendant loveliness; ¥ 
_ @rew forth those vehement desires of enjoying 
which she now manifested, and made her long * 
absent from the body, that she might be present 
the Lord.’ bei i Ai 
“The attendants of this ravishing comfort were 
as abundantly discovered its spring to be divine 
that it was truly ‘a joy in the Holy Ghost.’ Nows! 


Men, 


a CONVERT. 229 


viewed divine truths as living realities, and could say, 
‘Iknow these things are so; [ feel that they are true!’ 
Yow her soul was resigned to the divine will in the 
nost tender point; so that when I said to her, ‘What 
€ God should take away your husband from you, who 
ee then very sick, how do you think you could bear 
iat?’ She replied, ‘He belongs to God, and not to me; 
e may do with him just as he pleases.’ Now she had 
fe most tender sense of the evil of sin, and discover- 
the utmost aversion to it, longing to die, that she 
light be delivered from it. Now she could freely 
‘ust her all with God for time and eternity. When I 
uestioned her, ‘How she would be willing to die and 
lave her little infant ; and what she thought would be- 
me of it in that case?’ she answered, ‘God will take 
we of it. It belongs to him. He will take care of 
' Now she appeared to have the most humbling 
se of her own meanness and unworthiness, her 
‘eakness and inability to preserve herself from sin, 
1 to persevere in the way of holiness, erying, ‘If I 
velshail sin.” I then thought that I had never seen 
ith an appearance of ecstacy and humility meeting 
Jany one person in all my life before. 
‘The consequents of this joy are no less desirable 
(i satisfactory than its attendants. She since appears 
i be a most tender, broken-hearted, affectionate, de- 
' t, and humble Christian; as exemplary in life and 
mversation as any person in my congregation. May 
fe still ‘ grow in grace and in the knowledge of Christ.’ 
(March 10. “Toward night the Indians met togeth- 
f of their own accord, and sang, prayed, and discours- 
fof divine things among themselves; at which time 
Ere was much affection among them. Some, who 


E> hopefully pious, appeared to be melted with divine 
20 Brainerd. 


230 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [cn 


things; and some others seemed much concerned | 
their souls. Perceiving their engagement and afi 
tion in religious exercises, I went among them, a 
prayed, and gave a wor ‘of exhortation ; and obsery 
two or three somewhat affected and concerned, w_ 
scarce ever appeared to be under any religious impr | 
sions before. It seemed to be a day and evening of | 
vine power. Numbers retained the warm impale | 
of divine things which had been made upon their mit | 
the day before. .) 
March 14.—“‘ Was visited by a considerable numbel 
my people, and spent some time in religious exerci 
with them. ] 

March 15. “In the evening catechised. My 
ple answered the questions put to them with s 
ing readiness and judgment. There appeared 
warmth, and a feeling sense of divine things 
those who I have reason to hope are real Christi 
while I was discoursing upon peace of conscience 
joy in the Holy Ghost. These seemed quickened 
enlivened in divine service, though there was ni 
much appearance of concern among those who’ 
have reason to think in a Christless state. 

Lord’s day, March 16.—“ Preached to my con 
gation from Hebrews, 2:1-3. Divine truth seem 
have some considerable influence upon some of 
hearers, and produced many tears, as well as 
sighs and sobs, among those who have given evide 
of being real Christians, and others also. The 
pressions made upon the audience appeared in gen 
deep and heart-affecting ; not superficial, noisy and 
fected. 

“Toward night discoursed again on the Great § 
vation. The word was again attended with some pc 


\ 


a | 
| 


eh oe 


748.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 231 


‘ upon the audience. Numbers wept affectionately, 
id to appearance unfeignedly ; so that the Spirit of 
‘od seemed to be moving upon the face of the assem- 
ly. The woman mentioned in my journal of last 
ord’s day made a profession of her faith, and appear- 
‘to be ina devout, humble, and excellent frame of 
ind. 
“My house being thronged with my people in the 
‘ening; I spent the time in religious exercises with 
2m until my nature was almost spent. They are so 
vere in religious exercises, and insatiable in their 
tsting after Christian knowledge, that I can some- 
thes scarcely avoid laboring so as greatly to exhaust 
7 strength and spirits. 
rch 19.—“ Several of the persons who went with 
‘to the Forks of Delaware in February last, having 
‘Imm detained there by the dangerous illness of one of 
tar company, returned home but this day. Where- 
ton my people generally met together of their own 


ay 


eord, in order to spend some time in religious exer- 


ce ; and especially to give thanks to God for his pre- 
Pie goodness to those who had been absent from 
tm for several weeks, and recovering mercy to him 
iy 9 had been sick; and that he had now returned them 
ain safety. As I was then absent; they desired my 
Sool-master to assist them in carrying on their reli- 
: s solemnity; who tells me that they appeared en- 
ved and affectionate in repeated prayer, singing, &c. 
March 22.—“ Catechised in my usual method in the 
ning. My people answered questions to my great 
isfaction. There appeared nothing very remarkable 
ithe assembly, considering what has been common 
ongus. Although I may justly say the strict atten- 


1, the tenderness and affection, the many tears and 


232 LIPE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 


heart-affecting sobs, appearing in numbers in the 
bly, would have been very remarkable, were it no 
God has made these things common among u 
even with strangers soon after their coming ame 
from time to time. I am far from thinking that ¢ 
appearance and particular instance of affectic 
has been among us, has been truly genuine, and p 
froma divine influence. Iamsensible of the con 
and doubt not but there has been some corrupt mixty 
some chaff as well as wheat ; especially since reli 
concern, has become so common and prevalent he 
Lord’s day, March 23.—* There being about j 
strangers, adult persons, come among us in the we 
past, several of whom had never been in any rel 
meeting till now; I thought it proper to discours 
day ina manner peculiarly suited to their cireumst 
ces and capacities; and accordingly attempted it fi 
Hosea, 13:9. ‘O Israel, thou hast destroyed thys 
In the forenoon I opened, in the plainest manne 
could, man’s apostacy and ruined state, after hay 
spoken some things respecting the being and pew. 
tions of God, and his creation of man in a state 0 
rightness and happiness. In theafternoon endeavpy, 
to open the glorious provision God has made for 
redemption of apostate creatures, by giving his | 
dear Son to suffer for them and satisfy divine just 
on their behalf. There was not that affection ande 
cern in the assembly which has been common amo 
us; although there wasa desirable attention a ppe 7 
in moneral: and even in most of the strangers. 
“Near sun-set I felt an uncommon concern up¢ 
mind, especially for the poor strangers; that 
so much withheld his presence and the powerful 
ence of his Spirit from the assembly in the exerei 


116.] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 233 


othe day; and thereby withheld from them that de- 
g1e of conviction which I hoped they might have had. 
| this frame I visited several houses, and discours- 
» with some concern and affection to several per- 
sis particularly; but without much appearance of 
scess till I came to a house where several of the 
sangers were. There the solemn truths on which I 
icoursed appeared to take effect; first upon some 
¢Idren; then upon several adult persons who had 
)n somewhat awakened before; and afterward up- 
) several of the Pagan strangers. 

*I continued my discourse, with some fervency, un- 
jnlmost every one in the house was melted into tears, 
i many wept aloud, and appeared earnestly concern- 
sto obtain an interest in Christ. Upon this, numbers 
sn gathered from all the houses round about; and 
sthronged the place that we were obliged to remove 
«he house where we usually met for public worship. 
e congregation gathered immediately, and many ap- 
‘ ing remarkably affected, I discoursed some time 
if Luke, 19: 10; endeavoring to open the mercy, 
Mapassion, and concern of Christ for lost, helpless, 
undone sinners. There was much visible concern 
il affection in the assembly ; and I doubt not but that 
f Vine influence accompanied what was spoken to 
F hearts of many. There were five or six of the 
iingers, men and women, who appeared to be con- 
erably awakened; and, in particular, one very rug- 
young man, who seemed asif nothing would move 
, Was now brought to tremble like the jailor, and 
yp for a long time. ) 
‘The Pagans who were awakened, seemed at once 
vut off their savage roughness ‘and Pagan manners, 
|. became sociable, orderly and humane in their car- 
B 20% 


234 - LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 


riage. When they first came, I exhorted my reli 
people to take pains with them as they had done 
other strangers from time to time, to instruct the 
Christianity. But when some of them attem 
something of that nature, the strangers wou.d soo 
up and walk to other houses in order to avoid the 
ing of such discourses. Whereupon some of th 
Tious persons agreed to disperse themselves int 
several parts of the settlement; so that whereve 
strangers went, they met with some instructiv 
course, and warm addresses respecting their salva 
But now there was no need of using policy, in ¢ 
to get an opportunity of conversing with some of f 
about their spiritual concerns; for they were s 
touched with a sense of their perishing state, as n 
them voluntarily yield to the closest addresses y W 
were made them,respecting their sin and misery, 
need of an acquaintance with,and interest in the § 
Redeemer. ; 

March 24.—“Numbered the Indians to see how! 
ny souls God had gathered together here since 
coming into these parts; and found there were. 
about an hundred and thirty persons together, old a 
young. Several of woe} who are sh stated hea 


would now Biv been very considerable; espe 
considering how few were together at my f 
into this part of the country: the whole r 
amounting to ¢en persons at thattime. 

“My people went out this day with the desig 
clearing some of their land, above fifteen miles dis 
from this settlement, in order to their settling ther 
a compact form, where they might be under the ad 


he 
Mie 
Be ass 


Ret 
re] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 235 


ges of attending the public worship of God, of hay- 
ig their children taught in a school, and at the same 
par have a conveniency for planting: their land, in 
e place of our present residence, being of little or no 
ue for that purpose. The en of their settling 
pe in a body, and cultivating their lands, of which 

ey have done very little in their Pagan state, being 

such necessity and importance to their eee in- 
“ as well as worldly comfort; I thought it proper 

all them together, and show fen the duty of labor- 
iz with faithfulness and industry, and that they must 
itnow ‘be slothful in business,’ as they had ever been 
itheir Pagan state. I endeavored to press the impor- 
e of their being laborious, diligent, and vigorous 


sent juncture, the season of planting being now 
ar, in order to their being in a capacity of living to- 
per; and enjoying the means of eraee and instruc- 


hvored to inculcate upon ea Dr. Watts’ Psalm, 


If God to build the house deny &c. 


having recommended them, and the design of their 
& forth, to God, by prayer aa them, I dismissed 
Im to their business. 
In the evening read and expounded to those of my 
pple who were yet at home, and to the strangers 
ely come, the substance of the 3d chapter of the 
is. Numbers seemed to melt under the word ; espe- . 
ily while I was discoursing upon verse 19. ‘ Benen 
\therefore, and be converted, &c. Several of the 
ngers also were affected. When Lasked them after. 


236 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | 


ward, whether they did not now feel that thei 
were wicked, as I had taught them; one of them 
plied, ‘ Yes, she felt it now.’ Although before sh 
came here, upon hearing that I taught the Indians th: 
their hearts were all bad by nature, and needed to} 
changed and made good by the power of God ; she ha 
said, ‘Her heart was not wicked, and she had ne 
done any thing that was bad in her life.’ This, ind 
seems to be the case with them, I think universall) 
their pagan state. They seem to have no conse 
ness of sin and guilt, unless they can charge th 
selves with some gross acts of sin contrary to the ¢ 
mands of the second table.’ 
March 27.—* Discoursed to a number of my peopl 
in one of their houses in a more private manner. - 
quired particularly into their spiritual states, in orde 
to see what impressions they were under. Laid be 
them the marks of a regenerate, as well as of an u 
generate state ; and endeavored to suit and direc 
discourse to them severally, according as I 2 
hended their states to be. ‘There were a considerabl 
number gathered together before I finished my dis 
course; and several seemed much affected while I} 
urging the necessity and infinite importance of gettin 
into a renewed state. I find particular and close d 
ing with souls in private is often very successf 
March 29.—“ In the evening catechis 
upon Saturday. ‘Treated upon the benefit 
lievers receive from Christ at death. 
were answered with great readiness a 
and those who I have reason to think are the 
people of God were in general sweetly melted. ‘Ther 
appeared such a liveliness and in their attendal 
upon the word of God, and such eagerness to be 


4 g. a” Pe 5 Rs 


~ eee AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 237 


rs of the benefits mentioned, that they seemed 

ee be ‘looking for,’ but shai to, the com- 
g of the day of God.’ Divine truths seemed to distil 
mm the audience with a gentle but melting efficacy, 
the refreshing ‘ showers upon the new mown grass.’ 
ae assembly in general, as well as those who appear 
ily religious, were affected with some brief accounts 
the blessedness of the godly at death; and most of 

a then discovered an affectionate inclination to cry 
et me die the death of the righteous, and let my last 
d be like his; although many were not duly en- 
d to obtain uc change of heart that is necessary 
hat blessed end. 
Lord's day, March 39.—“Discoursed from Matt. 25: 
40. There was a very considerable moving, and 
»etionate melting, in the assembly. I hope that there 
re some real, deep, and abiding impressions of divine 
ags made upon the minds of many. There was one 
*d man, newly come among us, who appeared to be 
“siderably awakened that never was touched with 
7 concern for his soul before. In the evening cate- 
sed. There was not that tenderness and melting 
vagement among God’s people which appeared the 
ming before, and many other times. They answered 
questions distinctly, and well, and were devout and 
(mtive in divine service. 
uch 31.—“ Called my people together, as I had 
Monday evening before, and discoursed to 
‘in on the necessity and importance of labor- 
striously i in order to their living together, and 
‘the means of grace, &c. Having engaged in 

emn prayer to God among them for a blessing 
nici attempts, I dismissed them to their work. 
mbers of them, 1 men and women, seemed to 


238 _ LIFE OF BRAINERD. 


appeared ctionately concerned that Q 
with the: a, and begin their little town for them; 


by his blessing it might be a place comfortable 
them and theirs, with regard both to procuri 
necessaries of life and to attending on the wo 
of God. 
April 5.—“ Catechised in the evening. The 
peared to be some affection and fervent engagement 
divine service through the assembly in general ; es, 
cially toward the conclusion of my discourse. A 
public worship a number of those who I have reasi 
to think are truly religious came to my house, a 
seemed eager for some farther entertainment upo! 
vine things. While I was conversing with them at 
their scriptural exercises ; observing to them, that G 
work in the hearts of all his children was, for substa 
the same; and that their trials and temptations 
also alike ; and showing the obligations such were 0 
der to love one another in a peculiar manner, thi 
seemed to be melted into tenderness and affection1 
ward each other. I thought that that particular to 
of their being the disciples of Christ, viz. of their ha 
ing love one toward another, had scarcely evera 
peared more evident than at this time. 
Lord’s day, April 6.—“ Preached from Matt. 7:5 
23. There were considerable effects of the word 
ble in the audience, and such as were very desira 
an earnest attention, a great solemnity, many 
and heavy sighs, which were modestly suppresst 
- aconsiderable measure, and appeared unaffec 
without any indecent commotion of the 
Numbers of the religious people were put upon seri¢ 
and close examination of their spiritual state by hee 


AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 239 


i. every one that saith to Christ, Lord, Lord, 
en his kingdom.’ Some expressed fare 
ey had eceived themselves, and taken up a false 


ill of his Father who is in heaven. 

“There was one man brought under a very great 
ind pressing concern for his soul; which appeared 
nore especially after his Seton from public wor- 
jhip. That which he says gave him his great uneasi- 
a was, not so much any particular sin, as that he 


f t 
“ 


jad never done the will of God at all, but had sinned 
ontinually, and so had no claim to the kingdom of 

zaven. In the afternoon I opened to them the disci- 
line of Christ in his Church, and the method in which 
ffenders are to be dealt ity at which time the re- 
iigious people were much affected; especially when 
| = heard that the offender, continuing obstinate, must 


ily be esteemed and treated ‘as an heathen man,’ 
Sa pagan, who has no part nor lot among God’s visi- 
e people. Of this they seemed to have the most awful 
Ppeccesios 5 a state of heathenism, out of which 
ney were so lately brought, appearing very dreadful 
Peate 
fc After public worship I visited several houses to 
2e how they spent the remainder of the Sabbath, and 
‘treat with them solemnly on the great concerns of 
leir souls. The Lord seemed to smile upon my pri- 
te endeavors, and to make these particular and per- 
al addresses more effectual upon some than my 
ic pp ourses: 
il 7.—“ Discoursed to my people in the evening, 
m 1 Cor. 11 : 23-26, Endeavored to open to them 
€ institution, nature, and ends of the Lord’s Supper, 
well as of the qualifications and preparations neces- 


1 


| 


i 
I 


| a 


240 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (chap. 


sary to the right participation of that ordinance. 7 
bers appeared much affected with the love of C 
manifested in his making this provision for the cor 
of his people, at a season when himself was just e 
ing upon his sharpest sufferings. 
Lord’s day, April 20.—“ Discoursed, both fore; 
and afternoon, from Luke, 24; explaining m 
the chapter, and making remarks upon it. There 
a desirable attention in the audience ; though the 
not so much appearance of affection and tende 
among them as had been usual. Our meeting was} 
full; there being sundry strangers present who 
never been with us before. ‘ 
“In the evening catechised. My people answi 
the questions proposed to them readily and distin 
and I could perceive that they advanced in their kn 
ledge of the principles of Christianity. There app 
an affectionate melting in the assembly at this t 
Several, who I trust are truly religious, were refre 
and quickened, and seemed by their discourse 
behavior after public worship to have their ‘h 
knit together in love” This was a sweet and ble 
season, like many others with which my poor pe 
have been favored in months past. God has cat 
this little fleece to be repeatedly wet with the b 
dew of his divine grace, while all the earth around 
been comparatively dry. , 
. April 25 —“ Set apart this day, as preparatory 
administration of the Lord’s Supper, for solemn fas 
and prayer. The design was to implore the bles 
of God upon our renewing covenant with him, 
with one another, to walk together in the fear of € 
in love and christian fellowship, and to entreat that 
presence might be with us in our designed approa¢ 


746.) _ AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 241 


is table ; as well as to humble ourselves before God on 
scount of the apparent withdrawment, at least in @ 
jeasure, of that blessed influence which has been so 
revalent upon persons of all ages among us; as also 
2 account of the rising appearance of carelessness, 
unity, and vice, among some who once appearea tv 
> touched and affected with divine truth, and brought 
) some sensibility of their miserable and perishing 
ate by nature. It was also designed that we might 
aportunately pray for the peaceable settlement of the 
idians together in’a body ; that they might be a com- 
odious congregation for the worship of God; and 
iat God would defeat all the attempts that were, or 
ight be, made against that pious design.* 

“The solemnity was observed and seriously attend- 
i, not only by those who proposed to commune at 
ie Lord’s table, but by the whole congregation. In 
ie former part of the day I endeavored to open to 
y people the nature and design of a fast, as I had 
tempted more briefly to do before, and to instruet 
en in the duties of such a solemnity. In the after- 
on I insisted on the special reasons there were for 
engaging in these solemn exercises at this time ; 
th in regard to the need we stood in of divine assist- 
ice, in order to a due preparation for that sacred 
dinance, upon which some of us were proposing, 


‘There was at this time a terrible clamor raised against the 
dians in various places in the country, and insinuations as 
ugh I was training them up to cut people’s throats. Num- 
3 wished to have them banished from these parts, and some 
¥e out great words in order to fright and deter them from 
ing upon the best and most convenient tract of their own 
ads ; threatening to trouble them in the law; pretending a 
im to these lands themselves, although never purchased of 


9] Brainerd 


‘ 


aes q 
, } 


242 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 


with leave of divine Providence, speedily to attend 
and also in respect of the manifest decline of 
work here, as to the effectual conviction and conve 
sion of sinners ; there having been few of late de 
awakened out of a state of security. The worshi 
God was attended with great solemnity and rever 
with much tenderness and many tears, by those 
appeared to be truly religious ; and there was soméa 
pearance of divine power upon those who had 
awakened some time before, and who were still u 
concern. - 
“After repeated prayer, and attendance upon 
word of God, I proposed to the religious people, 
as much brevity and plainness as I could, the subst 
of the doctrine of the christian faith, as I had forn 
done; and had their renewed cheerful assent to it 
then led them to a solemn renewal of their cove 
wherein they had explicitly and publicly given 
themselves to God the Father, Son, and Holy G@ 
avouching him to be their God; and at the same 
renouncing their heathenish vanities, their idolai 
and superstitious practices ; solemnly engaging to 
the Word of God, so far as it was or might be 
known to them, for the rule of their lives; prom 
to walk together in love, to watch over themselves 
one another, to lead lives of seriousness and devo 
and to discharge the relative duties incumbent on t 
respectively, &c. This solemm transaction was att 
ed with much gravity and seriousness ; and at the 
time with the utmost readiness, freedom and chee! 
ness ; and a religious union and harmony of soul seem 
€1 to crown the whole solemnity. I could not 
think in the evening, that there had been manifes 
tokens of the divine presence with us in a/! the sey 


Wh ins gin 3 \e 3 


i 


746]. THE LORD’S SUPPER. 243 


xvices of the day; though it was also manifest that 
tere was not that concern among Christless’ souls 
hich has often appeared here. 
_ April 26.—“ Toward noon prayed with a dying child, 
ad gaye a word of exhortation to the bystanders to 
repare for death; which seemed to take effect upon 
me. In the afternoon discoursed to my people from 
latthew, 26: 26-30; of the author, the nature, and de- 
ens of the Lord’s supper; and endeavored to point 
ut the worthy receivers of that ordinance. The re- 
gious people were affected, and even melted with di- 
ne truth,—with a view of the dying love of Christ. 
vveral others, who had been for some months under 
myictions of their perishing state, appeared now to 
+ much moved with concern, and afresh engaged in 
eking after an interest in Christ; although I cannot 
yt that the word of God Rais so quick and pow- 
ful, so sharp and piercing to the assembly, as it had 
metimes formerly done. 
“Tn the evening I catechised those who were de-. 
ned to partake of the Lord’s supper the next day, 
yon the institution, nature and end of that ordinance; 
d had abundant satisfaction respecting their doctri- 
knowledge and fitness in that respect for an attend- 
‘ce upon it. They likewise appeared in general to 
ve an affecting sense of the solemnity of this sacred 
dinance, and to be humbled under a sense of their 
unworthiness to approach to God in it; and to be 
nestly concerned that they might be duly prepared 
an attendance upon it. Their hearts were full of 
@ ohe toward another, and that was the frame of 
ud they seemed concerned to maintain and bring to 
>Lord’s table with them. In the singing and prayer 


er catechising, there appeared an agreeable tender- 


244 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [onap. Vi 


ness and melting among tliem; and such toke i 
brotherly love and affection as would even cons 


Lord’s day, April 27.—“Preached from Tit. 2: 
‘Who gave himself for us,’ &c. The word of God 
this time, was attended with some appearance of di 
power upon the assembly; so that the attention 
gravity of the audience were remarkable; and é€ 
cially toward the conclusion of the exercise, many’ 
sons were much affected. Administered the Lor 
supper to ¢wenty three persons of the Indians, then 
ber of the men and women being nearly equal; : 
ral others, to the number of five or siz, being now 
sent at the Forks of Delaware, who would othe 
have communed with us.- The ordinance was att 
ed with great solemnity, and with a most desirable’ 
derness and affection.. It was remarkable that du 
the administration of the ordinance, especially in 
distribution of the bread, they seemed to be affect 
a most lively manner, as if Christ had been really 
cified before them. ‘The words of the institution, W 
repeated and enlarged upon in the season of the 
ministration, seemed to meet with the same recep 
to be entertained with the same free and full belief 
affectionate engagement of soul, as if the Lord Je 
Christ himself had been present, and had person 
spoken tothem. The affections of the communicant 
although considerably raised, were, notwithstand 
agreeably regulated and kept within proper boui 
So that there was a sweet, gentle, and affectionate m 
ing, without any indecent or boisterous bien 
the passions. 

“Having rested sometime after the administre 


. 
1746.] THE LORD’S SUPPER. _ 245 


of the Supper, being extremely tired with the necessary 
orolixity of the work, I walked from house to house, 
md conversed particularly with most of the commu- 
uicants, and found they had been almost universally 
‘efreshed at the Lord’s table, ‘as with new wine.’ Nev- 
x did ‘I see such an appearance of Christian love 
mong any people in all my life. It was so remarka- 
dle, that one might well have cried with an ueneeable 
urprise, ‘ Behold how they love one another. I think 
here could be no greater tokens of mutual affection 
mong the people of God, in the early days of Chris- 
ianity, than what now appeared here. The sight was 
0 desirable, and so well becoming the gospel, that no- 
hing less could be said of it than it was ‘the doing of 
Lord,’ the genuine operation of Him, ‘ who is Love.’ 
“Toward night discoursed again on the foremention- 
d text, Tit. 2:14; and insisted on the immediate end 
nd design of Christ’s death: viz. That he might re- 
eem his people from all iniquity, &c. This appeared 
)bea season of divine power among us. The religi- 
us people were much refreshed, and seemed remark- 
aly tender and affectionate, full of love, joy, and peace, 
ad desirous of being ees siee redeemed from all 
iguity ;’ so that some of them afterward told me that 
ey had never fe!t the like before.’ Convictions also 
ypeared to be revived in many instances; and several 
brsons were awakened whom fF had never observed 
ader any religious impressions before. 
« Such was the influence which attended our assem- 
7, and so unspeakably desirable the frame of mind 
ich many enjoyed in divine service, that it seemed 
ost grievous to conclude the public worship. The 
ingregation, when dismissed, although it was then 


poet dark, appeared loth to ive the place and em- 
Aer 


246. LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. ¥ 


ployments which had been rendered so dear to 
by the benefits enjoyed, while a blessed quickening 
fluence distilled upon them. Upon the whole, In 
say, I had great satisfaction relative to the adminis! 
tion of this ordinance in various respects. I have ab 
dant reason to think, that those who came to the Le 
table had a good degree of doctrinal knowledge of 
nature and design of the ordinance, and that they ae} 
with understanding in what they did. 
“In the preparatory services I found, I may justh 
say, uncommon freedom in opening to their ur 
standings and capacities, the covenant of grace, ar 
showing them the zature of this ordinance. 
were likewise thoroughly sensible that it was no mor 
than a sign, and not the real body and blood of Chri 
that it was designed for the refreshment and edi 
tion of the soul, and not for the feasting of the body 
They were also acquainted with the end of the of 
nance, that they were therein ealled’to commemo! 
the dying love of Christ. 
“ This competency of doctrinal knowledge, to 
with their grave and decent attendance upon the 
nance, their affectionate melting under it, and the sw 
and Christian frame of mind which they discove 
after it, gave me great satisfaction réspecting my 
ministration of it to them. O, what a sweet and bles 
season was this! God himself, I am persuaded, we 
the-midst of his people. I doubt not but many, in 
conclusion of the day, could say with their w 
hearts, ‘ Verily, a day thus spent in God’s hous 
better than a thousand elsewhere.? There seemed 
be but one heart among the pious people. Thes 
union, harmony and endearing love and tendern 
subsisting among them was, I thought, the most livel 


1746.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 247 


»mblem of the heavenly world which I had ever seen. 
_ April 28.—“ Concluded the solemnity of the Lord’s 
upper with a discourse upon John, 14:15. ‘If ye 
ove me, keep my commandments.’ At this time there 
ppeared a very agreeable tenderness in the audience 
1 general, but especially in the communicants. O, how 
ee, how engaged and affectionate did these appear in 
ae service of God ! they seemed willing to have their 
as bored to the door posts of God’s house, and to be 
is servants for ever. i 
“Observing numbers in this excellent frame, and the 
isembly in general affected, and that by a divine in- 
tence, I thought it proper to improve this advanta- 
sous season as Hezekiah did the desirable season of 
S great passover, 2 Chron. 31, in order to promote 
blessed reformation begun among them; and to en-. 
e those that appeared serious and religious to per- 
ere therein. Accordingly I proposed to them, that 
ey should renewedly enter into covenant before God, 
ut they would watch over themselves and one ano- 
, lest they should dishonor the name of Christ by 
ing into sinful and unbecoming practices ; and espe- 
lly that they would watch against the sin of drunk- 
ess, ‘the sin that easily besets them,’ and the temp- 
ions leading thereto, as well as the appearance of evil 
that respect. They cheerfully complied with the pro- 
al, and explicitly joined in that covenant ; where- 
n I proceeded in the most solemn manner of which 

yas capable, to call God to witness respecting their 
red engagements, and reminded them of the great- 
' of the guilt they would contract to themselves in 
Violation of it, as well as observed to them that God 
juld be a terrible witness against those, who should 
sume to do so in the great and notable day of. the 


248 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. Vi 


Lord. It was a season of amazing solemnity; and 
divine awe appeared upon the face of the whole ass 
bly in this transaction. Affectionate sobs, sighs ¢ 
tears were now frequent in the audience; and I de 
‘ not but that many silent cries were then sent up te 
Fountain of grace for supplies of grace sufficien' 
the fulfilment of these solemn engagements. 
Lord’s day, May4.—“ My people being now rer 
ed to their lands, mentioned in my diary of Mareh 
where they were then and have since been ma 
provision for a compact settlement, in order to tl 
more convenient enjoyment of the Gospel and 0 
means of instruction, as well as of the comforts of 
I this day visited them ; being now obliged to b 
with an English family at some distance from th 
and preached to them in the forenoon from Mark 
- 5. Endeavored to show them the reason there wa 
fear, lest many promising appearances and hopefu! 
ginnings in religion might prove abortive, like 
seed dropped upon stony places. 

“ Ty the afternoon discoursed upon Rom. 8: 9. ‘Noy 
if any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is nor 
his” I have reason to think this discourse was p 
liarly seasonable, and that it had a good effect 
some of the hearers. Spent some hours afterwai 
private conference with my people, and labored 
culate some things which I apprehended amiss am 
some of them. ‘ 

May 5.—* Visited my people again, and took ¢2 
their worldly concerns; giving them directions r 
ting to their business. I daily discover more and 
of what importance it is likely to be to their re igi 
interests, that they become laborious and indust 
acquainted with the affairs of husbandry, and ab 


ki AT CRANBERRY. 249 


yod measure to raise the necessaries and comforts of 
je within themselves; for their present method of 
ving greatly > 3 them to he a of various 
nds. 
May y 9.—“ reacted from John, Bi 40, in the open 
ilderness ; the Indians having as yet no house for 
iblic worship in this place, nor scarcely any shelters 
rthemselves. Divine truths made considerable im- 
fessions upon the audience, and it was a season of 
eat solemnity, tenderness, and affection. 
“This day received into communion the conjurer, 
&c. mentioned in my diary of August 8, 
45, and February 1, 1746, who appears to be such a 
arkable instance of divine grace that I cannot omit 
‘ive some brief account of him here. He lived near, 
d sometimes attended my meeting at the Forks of 
ware, for more than a year; but was, like many 
s of them, extremely attached to strong drink, 
seemed to be in no degree reformed by the means 
lich I used with them for their instruction and con- 
ion. At this time he likewise murdered a likely 
ung Indian, which threw him into some kind of 
Tror and desperation, so that he kept at a distance 
m me, and refused to hear me preach for several 
ths together, until I had an opportunity of con- 
rsing freely with him, and giving him encourage- 
nt, that his sin might be forgiven, for Christ’s sake. 
é this he again attended my meeting sometimes. 
But that which was the worst of all his conduct, 
ts his conjuration. He was one of those who are 
netimes called powaws among the Indians; and, 
Withstanding his frequent attendance upon my 
ching, he still followed his old charms and jug- 
ng tricks, ‘ giving out that himself was some great 


~ 


250 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 


one, and to him they gave heed,’ supposing him 
possessed of great power. When I have instr 
them respecting the miracles wrought by Chri 
healing the sick, &c. and mentioned them as evid 
of his divine mission, and the truths of his doett 
they have quickly observed the wonders of that 
which this man had performed by his magic cha 
Hence they had a high opinion of him and his su 
stitious notions ; which seemed to be a fatal obst 
tion to some of them in regard to their receiving 
Gospel. I had often thought that it would be a g 
favor to the design of evangelizing these India) 
God would take that wretch out of the world ; for I 
searcely any hope of his ever becoming good. 
God, whose thoughts are not as man’s thoughts, 
been pleased to take a much more desirable met 
with him; a method agreeable to his own mer 
nature, and I trust advantageous to his own inte 
among the Indians, as well as effectual to the salva 
of his poor soul. To God be the glory of it. . 

“ The first genuine concern for his soul was ex 
by seeing my interpreter and his wife publicly pro 
Christ, at the Forks of Delaware, July 21, 1745; w 
so prevailed upon him, that with the invitation o} 
Indian who was a friend to Christianity, he folle 
me down to Crossweeksung, in the beginning of 
gust, in order to hear me preach ; and there conti! 
for several weeks in the season of the most remarké 
and powerful awakening among the Indians; at wl 
time he was more effectually awakened, and bro 
under great concern for his soul. And et en hes 
upon his ‘feeling the word of God in his heart,’ ash 
expresses it, his spirit of conjuration left him entirel 
so that he has had no more power of that nature sim 


= 


46. J CONVERSION OF A CONJURER. 251 


an any other man living. He also declares, that he 
es not now.so much as know how he used to charm 
d conjure, and that he could not now do any thing 
that nature if he were ever so desirous of it. 
“He continued under convictions of his sinful and 
rishing state, and a considerable degree of concern 
his soul, all the fall and the former part of the win- 
past ; but was not so deeply exercised until some 
Win January. Then the word of God fook such 
ld upon him that he was brought into deep distress, 
i knew not what to do, nor where to turn inkl. 
‘then told me, that when he used to hear me preach 
m time to time in the fall of the year, my preaching 
his heart, and made him very — but did 
bring him to so great distress, because’ he still 
ned he could do something for “ own relief ; but 
wv, he said, I drove him up in such a sharp corner, 
the had no way to turn, and could not avoid being 
listress. He continued constantly under the heavy 
den and pressure of a wounded spirit, until at length 
a brought into the acute anguish and utmost 
of soul, mentioned in my Journal of February 
hich continued that night and part of the next day. 
this he was brought to the utmost calmness and 
sure of mind ; his trembling and heavy burden 
removed ; and he appeared perfectly sedate, al- 
igh he had to his apprehensions scarcely any hope 
vation. 
Pobserved him to appear remarkably composed ; 
| therefore asked him how he did? He replied, 
s done, it is done, it is all done now, ‘Tasked him 
he meant? He answered, ‘I can never do any 
e to save myself; it is all dend for ever. I can do 
More.’ I queried with him, whether he could not 


252 LIFE OF-BRA{NERD. (Ch 


do a little more, rather than go to hell? He rep) 
‘my heart is dead. 4 can never help myself? I ask 
him what he thought would become of him th 
He answered, ‘I must go to hell.’ I asked himif 
thought it was right that God should send him to he 
He replied, ‘O it is right. The devil has been ij 
ever since I was born.’ I asked him if he felt this 
he was in such great distress the evening before 
answered, ‘No; I did not then think it was righ 
thought God would send me to hell, and that 
then dropping into it; but my heart quarrelled ¥ 
God, and would not say it was right he should se 
me there. But now I know it is right ; for I hay 
ways served the devil; and my heart has no go¢ 
in it now, but it is as bad as ever it was,’ &e. I thous 
I had scarcely ever seen any person more effectua 
_ brought off from a dependanece upon his own ¢ 
vances and endeavors for salvation, or more app al 
to lie at the foot of sovereign mercy, than thi 
did under these views of things. 
“Tn this frame of mind he continued for s 
days, passing sentence of condemnation upon hi 
and constantly owning that it would be right hes 
be damned, and that he expected this would be’ 
portion for the greatness of his sins. Yet it was 
that he had a secret hope of mercy, though imp 
tible to himseif, which kept him not only from ¢ 
but from any pressing distress: so that, instead 
ing sad and dejected, his very countenance app 
pleasant and agreeable. 
“ While he was in this frame he several tim 
me ‘ When I would preach again?’ and seemed 
sirous to hear the word of God every day. Iz 
‘Why he wanted to hear me preach, seeing hi 


i. a“ 


; 
1746.) CONVERSION OF @ CONJURER. 253 


-was dead; and all was done; that he could never help 
himself, and expected that he must go to hell? He 
replied, ‘I love to hear you speak about Christ for all? 
Tadded, ‘But what good will that do you, if you must 
go to hell at last ?’"—using now his own language with 
him, having before from time to time labored in the 
‘best manner I could to represent to him the excellency y 
of Christ, his all-sufficiency and willingness to save 
sinners, and persons just in his case; although to 
nO purpose, as to yielding him any special comfort. 
de answered, ‘I would have others come to Christ, if 
must go to hell myself.’ It was remarkable, that he 
med to have a great love for the people of God; and 
ing affected him so much as the thought of being 
ated from them. This seemed to bea very dread- 
part of the heil to which he saw himself doomed. 
it was likewise remarkable, that in this season he was 
t diligent in the use of all the means for the 
soul’s salvation; although he had the clearest view ot 
he inefficiency of means to afford him help. He would 
frequently say, that all he did signified nothing at all; 
and yet was never more constant in doing ; attending 
ecret and family prayer daily, and surprisingly dili- 
gent and attentive in hearing the word of God; so that 
fe neither despaired of mercy, nor yet presumed to 
lope upon his own doings, but used means because 
appointed of God in order to salvation ; and because 
1€ would wait upon God in his own ae 

_“ After he had continued in this frame of mind more 
han a week, while I was discoursing publicly, he 
seemed to have a lively soul-refreshing view of the 
xcellency of Christ and the way of salvation by him, 
which melted him into tears, and fill2d him with ad- 


iration, comfort, satisfaetion and praise to God. 
22 Brainerd. 


254 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 


Since then he has appeared to be a humble, deve 
and affectionate christian ; serious and exemplary 
his conversation and behavior, frequently complait 
of his barremness, his want of spiritual warmth, Ii 
and activity, and yet frequently favored with quicker 
ing and refreshing influences. In all respects, s 
asIam capable of judging, he bears the marks: 
one ‘created anew in Christ Jesus to good works.” 
“His zeal for the cause of God was pleasing to m 
when he was with me at the Forks of Delaware 
February last. There being an old Indian at the p 
where I preached who threatened to bewitch me, | 
my religious people who accompanied me there ; 
man presently challenged him to do his worst, tellin, 
him that himself had been as great a conjurer as lie 
and that notwithstanding, as soon as he felt that w 
in his heart which these people loved, meaning 
word of God, his power of conjuring immediately lei 
him. ‘ And so it would you,’ said he, ‘if you did bu 
once feel it in your heart; and you have no powert 
hurt them, nor so much as to touch one of them,’ 
So that I may conclude my account of him by obs 
ing, in allusion to what was said of St. Paul, that 
now zealously ‘defends and practically preach 
faith which he once destroyed,’ or at least was instru 
mental in obstructing. May God have the glory of tht 
amazing change which he has wrought inhim. 
Lord’s day, May 18.—“ Discoursed both parts of th 
day from Rev. 3: 20, ‘ Behold I stand at the door a 
knock.’ There appeared some affectionate melting 
toward the conclusion of the forenoon exercise, al 
one or two instances of fresh awakening. In the in nr 
mission of public, worship I took occasion to discour 
to numbers i in a more private way, on the kindnes 


tie al 


| 
1746. ] AT CRANBERRY. 255 


om patience of the blessed Redeemer in standing and 
cocking, in continuing his gracious calls to sinners, 
who had long neglected and abused his grace; which 
jeemed to take some effect upon several. 

_ “Tn the afternoon divine truth was attended with so- 
emnity, and with some tears; although there was not 
hat powerful awakening and quickening influence 
vhich in times past has been common in our assemblies. 
(he appearance of the audience was comparatively dis- 
ouraging, and I was ready to fear that God was about 
Withdraw the blessed influence of his Spirit from us. 
May 19.—“ Visited and preached to my people from 
s, 20: 18, 19, and endeavored to rectify their notions 
t religious affections; showing them on the one 
and the desirableness of religious affection, tenderness 
d fervent engagement in the worship cad service of 
rod, when such affection flows from a true spiritual 
scovery of divine glories, from a just sense of the 
‘anscendant excellence and perfections of the blessed 
d, and a view of the glory and loveliness of the 
reat Redeemer; and that such views of divine things 
ill naturally excite us to ‘serve the Lord with many 
ars, With much affection and fervency, and yet with 
humility of mind.” On the other hand,I observed 
ie sinfulness of seeking after high affections imme- 
tely and for their own sakes; that is, of making 
sl object which our eye and heartis first and prin- 


y set upon, when the glory of God ought to be that 
yject. Showed them,that, if the heart be directly and 
a fixed on God, and the soul engaged to glorify 


, some degree of religious affection will be the ef- 
and attendant of it. But to seek after affection 
y and chiefly ; to have the heart principally set 
pon that; is to place it in the room 3 God and his 
| 


256 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 


glory. If it be sought, that others may take notie 
it, and admire us for our spirituality and forwa ‘ 
in religion, it is then abominable pride; if for the s 
of feeling the pleasure of being affected, it is then i¢ 
atry and self-gratification. Labored also to expose 
disagreeableness of those affections which are so 
times wrought up in persons by the power of faney, ¢ 
their own attempts for that purpose, while I still 
deavored to recommend to them that religious eff 
tion, fervency and devotion which ought to attend 
our religious exercises, and without which religion } 
be but an empty name and lifeless carcase. ‘This 
peared to bea seasonable discourse, and proved V 
satisfactory to some of the religious people who bet 
were exercised with some difficulties relating to1 
point. Afterward took care of, and gave my peo 
directions about their worldly affairs. 
May 24.—* Visited the Indians, and took ea 
their secular business ; which they are not able to m 
age themselves without the constant care and adv 
ofothers. Afterward discoursed to some of them ] 
ticularly about their spiritual concerns.— Enjoyed t 
day somewhat of the same frame of mind which I 
the day before. : 
Lord’s day, May 25.—“ Discoursed both parts 0 
day from John, 12:44-48. There was some degree 
divine power attending the word of God. Seve 
wept, and appeared considerably affected, and one, ¥ 
had long been under spiritual trouble, now obtaine 
clearness and comfort, and appeared to rejoice in Go 
her Savior. It was a day of grace and divine g 
ness; a day wherein something I trust was done | 
the cause of God among my people; a season of ec 
fortand sweetness to numbers of the religious peoph 


746.) AT CRANBERRY. 257 


though there was not that influence upon the con- 
jregation which was common some months ago. 

_ Lord’s day, June 1.—“ Preached both forenoon and 
fternoon from Matt: 11 : 27, 28. The presence of God 
eemed to be in the assembly ; and numbers were con- 
iderably melted and affected under divine truth. There 
yas a desirable appearance in the congregation in gene- 
al, an earnest attention and an agreeable tenderness ; 
nd it seemed as if God designed to visit us with fur- 
her showers of divine grace. I then received into 
jommunion five persons; and was not a little refreshed 
vith this addition made to the church of such as I hope 
yillbesaved. Ihavereason to hope that God has late- 
y, at and since our celebration of the Lord’s supper, 
at home to himself several persons who had long 
een under spiritual trouble and concern; although 
here have been few instances of persons lately awa- 
‘ened out of astate of security. ‘Those comforted of 
ate seem to be brought in, in a more silent way; nei- 
er their concern, nor consolation being so powerful 
ind remarkable as appeared among those more sudden- 
y wrought upon in the beginning of this work of grace. 
June'7.—“ Being desired by the Rev. Witt1am Trn- 
went to be his assistant in the administration of the 
,ord’s Supper, I this morning rode to Freehold to ren- 
that assistance. My people also being invited to 
ittend at that solemnity, they cheerfully embraced the 
ypportunity, and this day attended the preparatory ser- 
fiees with me. 

| Lord?s day, June 8.—“ Most of my people, who had 
yeen communicants at the Lord’s table, before being 
Bent on this occasion, communed with others in the 
aoly ordinance, at the desire, and I trust to the satis- 
Taction and comfort of numbers of God’s people, who 
B 22* 


i 
\ 
} 


258 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. 


had longed to see this day, and whose hearts 
joiced in this work of grace among the Indians, v 
prepared the way for what appeared so agreeab 
this time. ‘Those of my people who communed, see 
ed in general agreeably affected at the Lord’s ti 
and some of them considerably melted with the. 
of Christ, although they were not so remarkably 
freshed and feasted at this time, as when I administet 
this ordinance to them in our own congregation on 
Some of the by-standers were affected with seeing t 
who had been ‘aliens from the commonwealth of 
rael, and strangers to the covenant of promise,’ 
of all men had lived ‘without hope and without ¢ 
in the world,’ now brought near to God, as his pra 
~ ing people, by a solemn and devout attendance uj 
this sacred ordinance. As numbers of God’s peo 
were refreshed at this sight, and thereby excite 
bless God for the enlargement of his kingdom in 
world; so some others, I was told, were awakened 
it, apprehending the danger they: were in of be 
themselves finally cast out ; while they saw oth 
from the east and west preparing, and hopefully p 
pared in some good measure, to sit down in the ki 
dom of God. At this season others of my people 4 
who were not communicants, were considerably af 
ed; convictions were revived in several instances ; 
one, the man particularly mentioned in my journ: 
the 6th instant, obtained comfort and satisfaction; 
has since given me such an account of his spir 
exercises, and the manner in which he obtained r li 
as appears very hopeful. Itseemsas if He, who com 
manded the light to shine out of darkness, had 1 
‘shined into his heart, and given him the light of, an 


746. AT CRANBERRY. 259 
| 


cperimental ‘knowledge of the glory of God in the 
ee of Jesus Christ.’ 
June 9.—* A considerable number of my people met 
gether early in a retired place in the woods, and 
‘ayed, sang, and conversed of divine things; and were 
by some religious persons of the white people to 
+ affected and engaged, and some of them in tears in 
ese religious exercises. 
“After they had attended the concluding exercises 
‘the Lord’s Supper they returned home; many of 
€m rejoicing for all the goodness of God which they 
d seen and felt: so that this appeared to be a profit- 
le as well as comfortable season to numbers of my 
faninbe Their being present at this occasion, 


anumber of them communing at the Lord’s table 
other Christians, was, I trust, for the honor of 
a and the interest of religion in these parts; as num- 
I have reason to think, were quickened by means 


sit. J 
- 13.—“Preached to my people upon the new 
ure, from 2 Cor. 5:17. The presence of God ap- 
ed to be in the assembly. It was a sweet and 
reeable meeting, wherein the people of God were - 
ireshed and strengthened; beholding their faces in 
e glass of God’s word, and finding in themselves the 
ks and lineaments of the new creature: Some sin- 
s .~ concern were also renewedly affected ; and 
hh engaged for the securing of their eternal in- 
a : 
“ Three Indians were at this time received into com- 
ion. One of them was the very aged woman of 
ose exercises I gave an account in my diary of Dec. 
She now gave me a very punctual, rational, and 
isfactory account of the remarkable change which 


260 LIFE OF BRAINERD. 


she experienced some months after the beginnin, 
her concern, which I must say, appeared to be the; 
nuine operations of the Divine Spirit, so far as lam 
* pable of judging. Although she was become so ch 
ish, through age, that I could dg nothing in a way 
questioning her, nor scarcely make her understand 
thing that I asked her; yet when I let her alone t 
on with her own story, she could give a very 
tinct and particular relation of the many and variou 
exercises of soul she had experienced ; so deep w 
the impressions left upon her mind by that infil 
and those exercises which she had experienced. 
have great reason to think that sheis born anew in 
old age: she being, I presume, upward of eighty. 

June 19.—“ Visited my people with two of the 
rend correspondents. Spent some time in conversat 
with some of them upon spiritual things; and t 
some care of their worldly concerns. 

“This day makes up a complete year from the 
time of my preaching to these Indians in New-Jers 
What amazing things has God wrought, in this s 
of time, for this poor people! What a surprising cha 
appears in their tempers and behavior! How are! 
rose and savage Pagans, in this short period, transfo 
ed into agreeable, affectionate, and humble Christi 
and their drunken and Pagan howlings turned into d 
vout and fervent praises to God! They ‘who w 
sometimes in. darkness are now become light in 
Lord.’ May they ‘walk as children of the light an 
of the day! And now to Him that is of power to€ 
tablish them according to the gospel, and the preat 
ing of Christ—to God only wise, be glory through J 
sus Christ, for ever and ever, Amen.” > ? 


) 
| 
GENERAL REMARKS 


‘ON THE PRECEDING NARRATIVE. 
“Ar the close of this Narrative I would make a few 
ENERAL Remarks upon what, to me, appears worthy 
f notice, relating to the continued work of grace a 
jong my people. 

I.“I cannot but take notice, that I have in general, 
er since my first coming among the Indians in New- 
2rsey, been favored with that assistance which to me 
ulicommon, in preaching Christ crucified, and ma- 
ng him the centre and mark to which all my dis- 
rses among them were directed. 

“Tt was the principal scope and drift of all my dis- 
ses to this people, for several months together, 
r having taught them something of the being and 
orfections of God, his creation of man in a state of 
jetitude and happiness, and the obligations mankind 
ere thence under to love and honor him,) to lead 
‘em into an acquaintance with their deplorable state 
7 nature, as fallen creatures; their inability to extri- 
e and deliver themselves from it; the utter insuf- 
iency of any external reformations and amendments 
(life, or of any religious performances, of which they 
re capable, while in this state, to bring them into the 
vor of God, and interest them in his eternal mercy; 
ence to show them their absolute need of Christ to 
leem and save them from the misery of their fallen 
a open his all-sufficiency and willingness to 


the chief of sinners;—tle freeness and riches of 
vine grace, proposed ‘without money, and without 
‘ice,’ to all-that will accept the offer; thereupon to 
réss them without delay to betake themselves to him, 


} 


| 
1 


¥ 


_ 262 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. vi 


under a sense of their misery and undone state, for re 
lief and everlasting salvation;—and to show them th 
abundant encouragement the gospel proposes to need 
perishing, and helpless sinners, in order to engage then 
so todo. These things, I repeatedly and largely ins! 
ed upon from time to time. ' 
“T have oftentimes remarked with admiration, the 
whatever subject I have been treating upon, after | 
ing spent time sufficient to explain and illustrate 
truths contained therein, I have been naturally 
easily led to Christ as the substance of every subject 
If I treated on the being and glorious perfections 0 
God; I was thence naturally led to discourse of Chr 
as the only ‘way to the Father.’—If I attempted 
open the deplorable misery of our fallen state; it w 
natural from thence to show the necessity of Christ 
undertake for us, to atone for our sins, and to rede 
us from the power of them.—If I taught the comma’ 
of God, and showed our violation of them; this brought 
me, in the most easy and natural way, to speak of, and 
recommend the Lord Jesus Christ as one who 
‘magnified the law’ which we had broken, and wi 
was ‘become the end of it, for righteousness, to eve 
one that believes.” Never did I find so much freede 
and assistance in making all the various lines of 
discourses meet together, and centre in Christ, as 
have frequently done among these Indians. 
“Sometimes when I have had thoughts of offering 
but a few words upon some particular subject, and s 
no occasion, nor indeed much room, for any considera 
ble enlargement, there has appeared such a fountail 
of gospel-grace shining forth in, or naturally resulting 
from a just explication of it; and Christ has seemed 
in such a manner to be pointed out as the substai 


(746. | GENERAL REMARKS. 263 


f what I was considering and explaining; that I have 
jeen drawn in a way not only easy and natural, proper 
nd pertinent, but almost unavoidable, to discourse of | 
jim, either in regard to his undertaking, incarnation, 
atisfaction, admirable fitness for the work of man’s re- 
emption, or the infinite need that sinners stand in of 
n interest in him; which has opened the way for a 
ontinued strain of gospel invitation to perishing souls, 
2eome empty and naked, weary and heavy laden, and 
ast themselves upon him. 
As [have been remarkably influenced and assisted 
) dwell upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of 
alvation by him, in the general current of my discours- 
3 here, and have been, at times, surprisingly furnish- 
with pertinent matter relating to him, and the de- 
gn of his incarnation; so I have been no less assisted 
tentimes in an advantageous manner of opening the 
ysteries of divine grace, and representing the infinite 
tcellencies, and ‘unsearchable riches of Christ,’ as 
ell as of recommending him to the acceptance oi 
srishing sinners. I have frequently been enabled to 


Ki 


spresent the divine glory, the infinite preciousness 
Htranscenan loveliness of the great Redeemer, the 
litableness of his person and purchase to supply the 
ants, and answer the utmost desires of immortal souls; 
to open the infinite riches of his grace, and the won- 
srful encouragement proposed in the gospel to un- 
rthy, helpless sinners ;—to call, invite, and beseech: 
em to come and give up themselves to him, and be 
oC to God through him;—to expostulate with 
em respecting their neglect of one so infinitely love- 
i and freely offered ;—and this in such a manner, with 
ich freedom, pertinency, pathos, and application to 
ie conscience, as, I am sure, Inever could have made 


\ 
i 
i 


rr é " | 
264 |. SLIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. vin 


myself master of, by the most assiduous application 
mind. Frequently, at such seasons, I have been sux 
prisingly helped in adapting my discourses to the 
pacities of my people, and bringing them down in 
~ ‘such easy, and familiar methods of expression, as he 
rendered them intelligible even to Pagans. 4 
“Ido not mention these things asa recommendali 
of my own performances; for I am sure I found, fro 
time to time, that I had no skill or wisdom for 
great work; and knew not how ‘to choose out acce 
able words’ proper to address to poor benighted Pe 
gans. But thus’God was pleased to help me, ‘no 
know any thing among them, save Jesus Christ 
him crucified. Thus I was enabled to show thei 
their misery without him, and to represent his con 
plete fitness to redeem and save them. 
“This was the preaching God made use of for awat 
ing sinners, and the propagation of this ‘work of grac 
among the Indians.” It was remarkable, | 
to time, that when I was favored with any ee 
dom, in discoursing of the ‘ability and willingness 
Christ to save sinners,’ and ‘the need in which the 
stood of such a Savior;’ there was then the greate; 
appearance of divine power in awakening numbe iS ( 
secure souls, promoting convictions begun, and con 
forting the distressed. a 
“J have sometimes formerly, in reading the Apostle 
discourse to Cornelius, (Acts, 10,)wondered to see hil 
so quickly introduce the Lord Jesus Christ into his se 
mon, and so entirely dwell upon him through the who. 
of it, observing him in this point very widely to diff 
from many of our modern preachers; but latterly th 
has not seemed strange, since Christ has appeared | 
be the substance of the gospel and the centre in whic 


746. GENERAL REMARKS. 265 


he several lines of divine revelation meet. Still Iam 
ensible that there are many things necessary to be spo- 
‘en to persons under Pagan darkness, in order to make 
vay for a proper introduction of the name of Christ, 
nd his undertaking in behalf of fallen man. 

IL. “Itis worthy of remark, that numbers of these 
seople are brought toa strict compliance with the rules 
f morality and sobriety, and to a conscientious per- 
ormance of the external duties of Christianity, by the 
nternal power and influence of divine truth—the pecu- 
jar doctrines of grace upon their minds; without their 
iaving these moral duties frequently repeated and in- 
wulcated upon them, and the contrary vices particularly 
xposed and spoken against. What has been the gene- 
al strain and drift of my preaching among these In- 
dans, what were the truths I principally insisted upon, 
nd how I was influenced and enabled to dwell from 
ime to time, upon the peculiar doctrines of grace, I 
jave already stated. Those doctrines, which had the 
aost direct tendency to humble the fallen creature; 
o show him the misery of his natural state; to bring 
‘im down to the foot of sovereign mercy, and to exalt 
he great Redeemer—discover his transcendant excel- 
ency and infinite preciousness, and so recommend him 
» the sinner’s acceptance—were the subject-matter of 
yhat was delivered in public and private to them, and 
tom time to time repeated and inculcated. 

' “God was pleased to give these divine truths such 
‘powerful influence upon the minds of these people, 
nd so to bless them for the effectual awakening of 
jumbers of them, that their lives were quickly reform- 
id, without my insisting upon the precepts of morali- 
y, and spending time in repeated harangues upon ex- 


ermal duties. There was indeed no room for any kind 
23 Brainerd. 


4 


ai 


“3 


266 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (cine 


of discourses but those which respected the essent 
of religion, and the experimen 
things, while there were so m 
how “they should regulate their 
that, persons who are honestly disposed to comply 
duty, when known, may in ordinary cases be eé 
satisfied about, puicanee they should escape from 
wrath they feared, and felt that they deserved,—ok 
an effectual change of heart,—get an interest in Chris 
—and come to the enjoyment of eternal blessedne 
“So that my great work still was to lead them in 
further view of their utter undoneness in themselt 
the total depravity and corruption of their hearts; ’ 
there was no manner Of goodness in them; no g 
dispositions nor desires; no love to God, nor del 
in his commands; but, on the contrary, hatred, enm 
and all manner of wickedness reigning in them: 
at the same time to open to them the glorious and ¢ 
plete remedy provided i in Christ for perishing 
and offered fie 1o those who have no goodnes 
their own, no s of righteousness which they h 
done, to recommend them to God. 

“This was the continued strain of my preachii 
this my great concern and constant endeavor, so to. 
lighten the mind, as thereby duly to affect the hear 
and, as faras possible, give.persons a sense and feel 
of these precious and important doctrines of grace, : 
least so far as means might conduce to it. These wel 
the doctrines, and this the method of preaching, whic 
' were blessed of God for the awakening, and I trus 
the saving conversion of numbers of souls; and whic 
were made the means of producing a remarkall = 
formation among the hearers in general. 

“When these truths were felt at heart, there wa 


rf 
1746.] ‘GENERAL REMARKS. ; 267 


wno vice unreformed—no external duty neglected. 
kenness, the darling vice, was broken off, and 
scarce an instar it known among my hearers for 
months together. The abusive practice of husbands 
wives in putting away each other, and taking others 
their stead, was quickly reformed; so that there are 
ee or four feouples who have voluntarily dismissed 
hose whom they had wrongfully taken, and now 
ive together again in love and peace. The same 
night be said of all other vicious practices. The re- 
ormation was general; and all’springing from the in 
ernal influence of divine truth upon their hearts, and 
lot from any external restraints, or because they had 
leard these vices particularly exposed, and repeatedly 
poken against. Some of them I never so much as 
mentioned ; particularly that of the parting of men 
md their wives, till some, having their conscience 
wakened by God’s word, came, and of their own 
ccord. confessed | themselves guilty in that respect. 
en I at any time mentioned their wicked practices, 
nd the sins they were guilty of contrary te the light 
‘nature, it was not with a design, nor indeed with any 
e, of working an effectual reformation i in their ex- 
al manners by this means, for I knew, that while 
le tree remained corrupt, the fruit would naturally be 
0. My design was to lead them, by observing the 
ickedness of their lives, to a view of the corruption 
f their hearts, and so to convince them of the néces- 
ity of a renovation of nature, and to excite them, with 
fe utmost diligence to Seale after that great change, 
hich, if once obtained, I was sensible, would of course 
maduce a reformation of external Iemmniers in every 
espect. 


| And as all vice was reformed upon their feeling the 


at as | { 


. 
268 LIFE OF BRAINERD. - (Chap. vil. 


power of these truths upon their hearts, so the external 
duties of Christianity were complied with, and e 
scientiously performed from the same internal infiu- 
ence; family prayer set up, and constantly maintained 
unless among a few who had more lately come, a ad 
had felt little of this divine influence. This duty 
constantly performed, even in some families wh 
there were none but females, and scare _prayerle 
person was to be found among near anti nde 
them. The Sabbath was seriously and religiously 6 
served, and care taken by parents to keep their children 
orderly upon that sacred day; and this, not because 
had driven them to the performance of these duties 
by frequently inculcating them, but because they hat 
felt the power of God’s word upon their hearts,—were 
made sensible of their sin and misery, and thence coul 
not but pray, and comply with every thing which they 
knew to be their duty, from what they felt within them 
selves. When their hearts were touched with as 
of their eternal concerns, they could pray with 
freedom, as well as fervency, without being at the 
ble first to learn set forms for that purpose. Someo 
them, who were suddenly awakened at their first com: 
ing among us, were brought to pray and cry for merey 
with the utmost importunity, without ever being in- 
structed in the duty of prayer, or so much as once di. 
rected to a-performance of it. : 
“The happy effects of these peculiar doctrines of 
grace upon this people, show, even to demonstratior 
that, instead of their opening a door to licentiousness, 
as many vainly imagine, and slanderously insinu 
they have a directly contrary tendency ; so that a cl 
application, a sense and feeling of them, will have 
most powerful influence toward the renovation, 
effectual reformation both of heart and life. 


746.) | GENERAL REMARKS. 269 


“Happy experience, as well as the word of God and 
he example of Christ and his apostles, has taught me, 
hat the very method of preaching ‘which is best suit- 
d to awaken in mankind a sense and lively appre- 
ension of their depravity and misery in a fallen state, 
=to excite them so earnestly to seek after a change of 
eart, as to fly for refuge to free and sovereign grace 
a Christ’ as the only hope set before them,—is likely 
) be most successful in the reformation of their exter- 
al conduct. I have found that close addresses, and 
olemn applications of divine truth to the conscience, 
ike at the root of all vice; while smooth and plau- 
ble harangues upon moral virtues and external du- 
es, at best are like to donomore than lop off the branch- 
3 of corruption, while the root of all vice remains still 
ntouched. 
“A view of the blessed effect of honest endeavors 
) bring home divine truths to the conscience, and duly 
) affect the heart with them, has often reminded me 
f those words of our Lord, which I have thought 
light be a proper exhortation for ministers in respect 
| their treatment of others, as well as for persons in 
sneral with regard to themselves. ‘Cleanse first the 
siae of the cup and platter, that the outside may be 
ean also.’ Cleanse, says he, the inside that the out- 
de may be clean. As if he had said, the only effec- 
al way to have the outside clean, is to begin with 
at is within; and if the fountain be purified, the 
Ens willnaturally be pure. Most certain it is, if we 
in awaken in sinners a lively sense of their inward 
ution and depravity—their need of a change of 
part—and so engage them to seek after inward clean- 
ag, their external defilement will naturally be 


pansed, their vicious ways of course be reformed 
r 23* 


_ to represent the preaching of morality and press 


” 
270 LIFE OF 


and their conversation and behavior become reg 

“Now, although I cannot P Send that the refor 
tion among my people does, in every instapanal s 
from a saving change of heart; yet I may trulys 
it flows from some heart-affecting view and se 
divine truths which all have had in a greater or 
degree. I do not intend, by what I have observed 


persons to the external performance of duty, to be 
together unnecessary and useless, especially at ti 
when there is less of divine power attending the me 
of grace, when, for want of internal influences, th 
is need of external restraints, It is doubtless an 
the things that ought to be done, while others are 
to be left undone. But what I principally designed 
this remark, was to discover a plain matter of fact, 
That the reformation, the sobriety, and the extel 
compliance with the rules and duties of Christian 
appearing among my people, are not the effect of an} 
mere doctrinal instruction, or merely rational view 
the beauty of morality, but from the internal por 
and influence which the soul-humbling doctrines 
grace have had upon their hearts. -~ 

Ill. “It is remarkable, that God has so conta 
renewed the showers of his grace here; so quickly se 
up his visible kingdom among these people; and 
smiled upon them in relation to their acquirement ¢ 
knowledge, both divine and human. It is now ne 
a year since the beginning of this gracious outpouril 
of the divine Spirit among them ; and although it} 
often seemed to decline and abate for some short sp: 
of trme—as may be observed by several passe 
my Journal, where I have endeavored to note th 
fust as from time to time they appeared to me 


we te =: wee os 
(746.) OENERAL ae REMARKS. mm 
he shower has seemed to be renewed, and the work 
of grace revived again. A divine influence seems still 
pparently to attend the means of grace, in a greater 
less degree, in most of our meetings for religious 
‘xercises ; whereby religious persons are refreshed, 
trengthened, and established,—convictions revived and 
jromoted in many instances, and some few persons 
tewly awakened from time to time. 1 must be ac- 
mowledsed, that for some time past there has, in gen- 
Tal, appeared a more manifest decline of this work; 
‘nd the divine Spirit has seemed, in a considerable 
€, withdrawn, especially with regard to his awa- 
ening influence; so that the strangers who come lat- 
a not seized with concern as formerly; and 
ome few who have been much affected with divine 
: in time past, now appear less concerned. Yet, 
| be God, there is still an appearance of divine 
‘ower and grace, a desirable degree of tenderness, re- 
affection and devotion in our assemblies. 
“As God has continued and renewed the showers 
fhis grace among this people for some time, so he 
28 with uncommon quickness set up his visible king- 
/om, and gathered himself a church in the midst of 
7 Fifteen individuals, since the conclusion of my 


Journal, have made a public profession of their 
making thirty-eight within the space of eleren 

hs, all of whom appear to have had a work of 
grace wrought in their hearts; I mean, to have 

ad the experience not only of the awakening, but, in 
ad=ment of charity, of the renewing influences of 

: divine Spirit. There are many others under so- 
concern for their souls, and deep convictions of 

sin and misery, but who do not yet give that deci- 
idence which could be desired, ofasaving change. 


272 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. val 


“From the time when, as I am informed, some 
them were attending an idolatrous feast and sacri 
in honor to devils, to the time when they sat down 
the Lord’s table, I trust to the honor of God, was 
more than a full year. Surely Christ’s little flock here, 
so suddenly gathered from among Pagans, may j 
say, in the language of the church of old, ‘The 
hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad. 

“Much of the goodness of God has also appeared 
relation to their acquisition of knowledge, both in reli 
gion and in the affairs of common life. There h 
been a wonderful thirst after Christian knowledge pre 
vailing among them in general, and an eager desire } 
being. instructed in Christian doctrines and mannets 
This has prompted them to ask many pertinent as y el 
as important questions; the answers to which have 
tended much to enlighten their minds and prome 
their knowledge in divine things. Many of the doc- 
trines which I have delivered, they have queried with 
me about, in order to gain further light and insight i tc 
them; and have from time to time manifested a good 
understanding of them, by their answers to the ques 
tions proposed to them in my catechetical ea 

and 


“They have likewise queried with me respect 
proper method, as well as proper matter of prayer, ali 
expressions suitable to be used in that religious exer- 
cise ; and have taken pains in order to the perform: 
ance of this duty with understanding.—They hay 
likewise taken pains, and appeared remarkably ap 
learning to sing psalm-tunes, and are now able to sin 
with a good degree of decency in the worship of Go 
—They have also acquired a considerable degree 0 
useful knowledge in the affairs of common life; so 
they now appear like rational creatures, fit for h 


— > 
\ - 


746.] GENERAL REMARKS. 273 


ociety, free of that savage roughness and brutish stu- 
idity which rendered them very disagreeable in their 
‘agan state. 

“They seem ambitious of a thorough acquaintance 
‘ith the English language, and for that end frequently 
geak itamong themselves. Many of them have made 
ood proficiency in acquiring it, since my coming 
mong them; so that most of them can understand a 
msiderable part, and some the substance of my dis- 
jurses, without an Interpreter, being used to my sim- 
e and familiar methods of expression, though they 
yuld not well understand other ministers. 

“As they are desirous of instruction, and surprising- 
Met in the reception of it, so divine Providence has 
diled upon them with regard to the proper means in 
der to it. The attempts made for establishing a school 
nong them have succeeded, and a kind Providence 
is sent them a schoolmaster, of whom I may justly 

, 1 know of ‘no man like minded, who will naturally 

for their state.’ He has generally thirty or thirty- 
echildren i in his school; and when he kept an even- 
z school, as he did while the length of the evenings 
puld admit of it, fifleen or twenty grown people, mar- 
id and single, attended. 
The children learn with surprising readiness; so 
at their master tells me, he never had an English 
nool which learned, in general, so fast. There were 
above two in thirty, although some of them were 
fy small, but learned all the letters in the alphabet 
hin three days after his entrance upon his business; 
a several in that space of time learned to spell con- 
erably. Some of them, in less than five months, 
€ learned to read with ease in the Psalter or Tes- 
nent. 


274 LIPE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. é 


“They are instructed twice a week in the Ci 
on Wednesday and Saturday. Some of them, s 
the latter end of February, when they began, 
committed more than half of it to memory; and 
of them have made some proficiency in it. ¢ 
“ They are likewise instructed in the duty of s 
prayer, and most of them constantly attend it nig) 
and morning, and are very careful to inform their ma 
ter, if they apprehend that any of their little schoo 
mates neglect that religious exercise. 
IV. “It is worthy to be noted, to the praise of so 
reign grace, that amidst so great a work of convictio 
—so much concern and religious affeetion—there hi 
been no prevalence, nor indeed any considerable appem 
ance of false religion—heats of imagination, inten 
rate zeal, or spiritual pride; and that there havet 
very few instances of irregular and scandalous bi 
vior among those who have appeared serious. 
“This work of grace has, in the main, been Cat 
on with a surprising degree of purity, and fr 
from corrupt mixture. Their religious concern 
generally been rational and just; arising from a sen 
of their sins, and exposure to the divine displeas ' 
account of them; as well as their utter inability 
liver themselves from the misery they felt and fears 
If there has been, in any instance, an appearance 
concern and perturbation of mind, when the subjects 
it knew not why; yet there has been no prevalence 
any such thing; and indeed f scarcely know of al 
instance of that nature at all_—It is very remar 
that, although the concern of many persons under co 
victions of their perishing state has been very ere 
and pressing, yet I have never seen any thing like de 
peration attending it in any one instance. They ha 


f ate 


| te @ 


746. } GENERAL REMARKS. 275 


ad the most lively sense of their undoneness in them- 
elves; have been brought to give up all hopes of de- 
verance from themselves; have experienced great dis- 
‘ess and anguish of soul; and yet, in the seasons of 
1e greatest extremity, there has been no appearance 
f despair in any of them,—nothing that has discou- 
aged, or in any wise hindered them from the most dili- 
ent use of all proper means for their conversion and 
ilvation. Hence it is apparent, that there is not that 
anger of persons being driven into despair under spi- 
tual trouble, unless in cases of deep and habitual me- 
mcholy, which the world in general is ready to 
agine. 
“The comfort which persons have obtained after 
ieir distresses, has likewise in general appeared solid, 
ell grounded, es scriptural; arising from a spiritual 
ad supernatural illumination of mind,—a view of di- 
ine things, in a measure, as they are,—a complacency 
f soul in the divine nesteetione, ase a peculiar satis- 
ction in the way of salvation by free sovereign grace 
the great Redeemer. 
“Their joys have seemed to rise from a variety of 
ews and considerations of divine things, although for 
bstance the same. Some, who, under conviction, 
emed to have the hardest struggles and heart-risings 
fainst the divine sovereignty, have seemed, at the first 
hwn of their comfort, to rejoice in a peculiar manner 
B. divine perfection :—and have been delighted to 
link that themselves, and all things else, were in the 
and of God, and that he would dispose of them ‘just 
he pleased.’ 
“Others, who, just before their reception of comfort, 
ave been remarkably oppressed with a sense of their 
adoneness and poverty, who have seen themselves, as 


iii i 


276 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Vil 


it were, falling down into remediless perdition, han 
been at first more peculiarly delighted with a view « 
the freeness and riches of divine grace, and the off 
of salvation made to perishing sinners ‘ without mone 
and without price.’ : 7 

“Some have at first appained to rejoice especially i 
the wisdom of God, discovered in the way of salvat 
by Christ; it then appearing to them ‘a new and livin 
way,’ a way of which they had never thought, nor 
any just conceptions, until opened to them by the spe 
cial influence of the divine Spirit. Some of them, uy 
on a lively spiritual view of this way of salvation, ha 
wondered at their past folly in seeking salvati 
other ways, and that they never saw this way of Sa 
vation before, which now appeared so plain and 
as well as excellent to them. 

“ Others, again, have had a more general view 
beauty and excellency of Christ, and have had 
souls delighted with an apprehension of his divine gk 
ry, as unspeakably exceeding all they had ever Cor 
ceived before; yet, without singling out any one of th 
divine perfections in particular; so that, although thei 
comforts have seemed to arise from a variety of view 
and considerations of divine glories, still they rs 


spiritual and supernatural views of them, and me 
groundless fancies, which were the spring of their jo 
and comforts. . pte a 
“Yet it must be acknowledged that, when this wor 
became so universal and prevalent, and gained sue 
general credit and esteem among the Indians that & 
tan seemed to have little advantage of working agains 
it in his own proper garb, he then transformed himsel 
‘into an angel of light,’ and made some vigorous at 
tempts to introduce turbulent commotions of the pas 


1746.) GENERAL REMARKS. 277 


sions in the room of genuine convictions of sin, imagi- 
nary and fanciful notions of Christ, as appearing to the 
mental eye in a human shape, and in some particular 
postures, &c. in the room of spiritual and supernatural 
discoveries of his divine glory and excellency, as well 
is many other delusions. I have reason to think, that, 
fthese things had met with countenance and encou- 
‘agement, there would have been a very considerable 
larvest of this kind of converts here. i 
“Spiritual pride also discovered itself in various in- 
tances. Some persons, whose feelings had been great- 
y excited, seemed very desirous from thence of being 
hought truly gracious ; who, when I could not but ex- 
mess to them my fears respecting their spiritual state, 
liscovered their resentments to a considerable degree. 
Chere also appeared in one or two of them, an unbe- 
oming ambition of being teachers of others. So that 
satan has been a busy adversary here as well as else- 
where. But, blessed be God, though something of this 
ature has appeared, yet nothing of it has prevailed, 
lor indeed made any considerable progress at all. My 
eople are now apprised of these things, are made ac- 
ainted, that Satan in such a manner ‘ transformed 
imself into an angel of light,’ in the first season of 
i great outpouring of the divine Spirit in the days of 
: apostles; and that something of this nature, in a 
reater or less degree, has attended almost every re- 
ival and remarkable propagation of true religion ever 
:. They have learned so to distinguish between 
ne gold and dross, that the credit of the latter ‘ is trod- 
en down like the mire of the streets; and, as it is na- 
iral for this kind of stuff to die with its credit, there 
| Mow scarce any appearance of it among them. 
| “As there has been no prevalence of irregular heats, 
| 24 Brainerd. 


-, 


278. LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 


imaginary notions, spiritual pride, and satanical de 
sions among my people; so there have been very 
instances of scandalous and irregular behavior among 
those who have made a profession, or even an appear 
ance of seriousness. I do not know of more thal 
three or four such persons who have been guiltye¢ 
any open misconduct, since their first acquainta 
with Christianity ; and I know of no one who, pers ist 
in any thing of that nature. Perhaps the remarkal 
purity of this work in the latter respect, its freedor 
from frequent instances of scandal, is very much ow 
to its purity in the former respect, its freedom fi 
corrupt mixtures of spiritual pride, wild-fire, and deli 
sion, which naturally lay a foundation for scandal 
practices. 
“ May this blessed work, in the power and purity 
prevail among the poor Indians here, as well as spr 
elsewhere, till their remotest tribes shall see the sal 
tion of God! Amen.” 


CHAPTER Iz. 


From the close of his Public Journal, June 19, 1746, to his 

—continuance of labor at Crossweeksung and Cranber 
journey wilh six Chrishian Indians to the Susquehanna, | 
labors there—return to Crossweeksung—com, 
tion of health to leave the Indians—confi 
Elizabethlown—farewell visit to th 
succeeds him as a Missionary— 
Connecticut—visit to President # 
journey to Boston, where he is brough 
ness in Boston—returns to Northamplo 
in his last sickness—death. 


[June 19, 1746—October 9, 1747. J 


Lord’s day, June 29, 1746.—“ Preached both 
the day, frony John, 14:19. God was pleased to 


1746. ] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 279 


me, to afford me both freedom and power, especially 
oward the close of my discourses forenoon and after- 
100n. God’s power appeared in the assembly, in both 
sxercises. Numbers of God’s people were refreshed 
ind melted with divine things; one or two comforted, 
vho had been long under distress; convictions, in di- 
ers instances, were powerfully revived; and one man 
o years was much awakened, who had not long fre- 
uented our meeting, and appeared before as stupid 
Sastock. God amazingly renewed and lengthened 
ut my strength. I wads so spent at noon that I could 
earcely walk, and all my joints trembled so that I could 
Ot sit, nor so much as hold my hand still; aid yet 
od strengthened me to preach with power in the after- 
oon, although I had given out word to my people, that 
did not expect to be able to do it. Spent some time 
fterward in conversing, particularly, with several per- 
ms, about their spiritual state; and had some satis- 
letion concerning one or two. Prayed afterward 
‘ith a sick child, and gave a word of exhortation. 
Jas assisted in all my work. Blessed be God! Re- 
tned home with more health than I had in the morn- 
g, although my linen was wringing wet upon me, 
om a little after ten, till past. five in the afternoon. 
Y spirits also were considerably refreshed 3 and my 
jul rejoiced in hope, that I had through grace done 
mething for God. In the evening walked out, and 
oyed a sweet season in secret prayer and praise. 

OI found the truth of the Psalmist’s words, ‘My 
odness extendeth not to thee!’ I could not make 
ty returns to God; I longed to live only to him, and 
be in tune for his praise and service for ever. Oh 

spirituality and holy fervency, that I might spend 
a be spent for God to my latest moment 


_ 


Returned to my lodgings in the evening, in a comfe 


iii 


280 | LIFE OF BRAINERD. [chap. Ix 


July 10.—* Spent most of the day in writing. To. 
ward night rode to Mr. Tennent’s; enjoyed soi 
agreeable conversation; went home in the evening 
a solemn, sweet frame of mind ; was refreshed in 
duties, longed to live wholly and only for God, anc 
saw plainly there was nothing in the world worth ; 
my affection—my heart was dead to all below; yet 
through dejection, as at some times, but from vie 
a better inheritance. Ad 

July 12.—“ This day was spent in fasting and praye 
by my congregation, as preparatory to the Lord’s st 
per. Idiscoursed, both parts of the day, from Rom. 
4 : 25, ‘Who was delivered for our offences,’ & 
God gave me some assistance, and something of div 
power attended the word; so that this was an agree 
able season. Afterward led them to a solemn renewa 
of their covenant, and fresh dedication of themsely 
to God. This was a season both of solemnity an 
sweetness, and God seemed to be ‘in the midst of u 


able frame of mind. 
Lord’s day, July 13.—* In the forenoon, discoursed 
on the ‘ bread of life, from John, 6 : 35. God gave mi 
some assistance, in a part of my discourse especially 
and there appeared some tender affection in the assem 
bly under divine truth; my soul also was somey 
refreshed. Administered the Lord’s supper to thirty 
one of the Indians. God seemed to be present in thi 
ordinance ; the communicants were sweetly melted an 
refreshed. O how they melted, even when the ele 
ments were first uncovered! There was scarcely 
dry eye among them, when I took off the linen, 
showed them the symbols of Christ’s broken 
Having rested a little, after the administration of 


1746.] LORD’S SUPPER. 281. 


ordinance, | visited the communicants, and found them 
generally in a sweet loving frame; not unlike what ap- 
peared among them on the former sacramental occa- 
sion, April 27. In the afternoon, discoursed upon com- 
ing to Christ, and the satisfaction of those who do SO, 
from the same verse I insisted on in the forenoon. 
This was likewise an agreeable season, one of much 
tenderness, affection, and enlargement in divine ser- 
vice ; and God, Iam persuaded, crowned our assembly 
with his presence. I returned home much spent, yet 
rejoicing in the goodness of God. 

July 14.—“ Went to my people, and discoursed to 
jhem from Psalm 119 : 106, ‘I have sworn, and I will] 
erform it, &c. Observed, (1.) that all God’s judg- 
nents or commandments are righteous. (2.) That 
x0d’s people have sworn to kéep them ; and this they 
lo especially at the Lord’s table. There appeared to 
¢ a powerful divine influence on the assembly, and 
onsiderable melting under the word. Afterward I 
ed them to a renewal of their covenant before God, 
hat they would watch over themselves and one ano- 
her, lest they should fall into sin, and dishonor the 
ame of Christ. This transaction was attended with 
reat solemnity ; and God seemed to own it by excit- 
ig in them a fear and jealousy of themselves, lest they 
heuld sin against God ; so that the presence of God 
seemed to be among us in this conclusion of the sacra- 
lental solemnity. | 
| July 21.—“ Preached to the Indians, chiefly for the 
ike of some strangers ; proposed my design of taking 
journey speedily to the Susquehanna ; exhorted my, 
ople to pray for me, that God would be with me in 
at journey ; and then chose divers persons of the con- 
regation to travel with me. Afterward spent some 
| B 24* 


a 


282 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 1X. 


time in discoursing to the strangers, and was y 
what encouraged with them. Took care of my } , 
ple’s secular business, and was not a little exerci 
with it. Had some degree of composure and co: 
in secret retirement. 4 
July 22.—* Was in a dejected frame most of the day 
wanted to wear out life, and have it at-an end; bu 
had some desires of living to God, and wearing out if 
for him. Oh that I could indeed do so te) 
July 29.—* My mind was cheerful, and free from the 
melancholy with which I am often exercised ; had 
freedom in looking up to God at various times in the 
day. In the evening I enjoyed a comfortable season 
in secret prayer; was helped to plead with God fo 
my own dear people, that he would carry on his own 
blessed work among them; and assisted in prayil 
for the divine presence to attend me in my intendé 
journey to the Susquehanna. I scarce knew how 
leave the throne of grace, and it grieved me that 
was obliged to go to bed; I longed to do something 
for God, but knew not how. Blessed be God for thi 
freedom from dejection! ” 
July 30.—* Was uncommonly comfortable, both in 
body and mind; in the forenoon especially, my min 
was solemn; I was assisted in my work, and 
“Seemed to be near to me; so that the day was as 
fortable as most I have enjoyed for some time. In the 
evening was favored with assistance in secret pra 
and felt much as I did the evening before. Blessed 
God for that freedom I then enjoyed at the throne 
grace, for myself, my people, and my dear friends! 
August 1.—“ In the evening enjoyed a sweet season 
in secret prayer ; clouds of darkness and perplexing 
care were sweetly scattered, and nothing anxious re 


746.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 283 


aained. O how serene was my mind at this season! 

ow free from that distracting concern I have often 

it! ‘ Thy will be done, was a petition sweet to my 

pul; and if God had bid me choose for myself in any 

fair, I should have chosen rather to have referred 

ie choice to him; for I saw he was infinitely wise, 

nd could not do any thing amiss, as I was in danger 

fdoing. Was assisted in prayer for my dear flock, 

jat God would promote his own work among them, 

nd go with me in my intended journey to the Sus- 

nehanna; was helped to remember my dear friends 

) New-England, and my dear brethren in the minis- 

y- I found enough in the sweet duty of prayer to 

ave engaged me to continue in it the whole night, 

ould my bodily state have admitted of it. O how 

veet it is, to be enabled heartily to say, ‘ Lord, not 

y will, but thine be done’ 

August 2.—“ Near night, preached from Matt. 11. 

9. ‘Take my yoke upon you,’ &c. Was considerably 

alped, and the presence of God seemed to be some- 

hat remarkably in the assembly; divine truth made 

ywerful impressions, both upon saints and sinners. 

lessed be God for such a revival among us! In the 

ening was very weary, but found my spirits sup- 

brted and refreshed. 

‘August 7—“ Rode to my house where I spent the® 
st winter, in order to bring some tnings I needed fer 

ly Susquehanna journey ; was refreshed to see that 
abe, which God so marvellously visited with the 
sowers of his grace. O how amazing did the power 
. God often appear there! ‘Bless the Lord, O my 
jul, and forget not ali his benefits.’ 

August 9.—“ In the afternoon visited my people ; set 
\eir affairs in order as much as possible, and contrived 


bi ’ 


* 


284 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IX 


for them the management of their worldly busines 
discoursed to them in a solemn manner, and concludec 
with prayer. Was composed and comfortable in t 
evening, and somewhat fervent in secret prayer; } ac 
some sense and view of the eternal world; and foun 
a serenity of mind. O that I could magnify the Li 
for any freedom which he affords me in prayer! — 
Lord’s day, Aug. 10.—“ Discoursed to my people bo 
parts of the day, from Acts, 3: 19, ‘Repent ye, there 
fore, &c. In discoursing of repentance, in the fo 
noon, God helped me, so that my discourse was seare 
ing ; some were in tears, both of the Indians and whit 
people, and the word of God was attended with so 
power, In the intermission I was engaged in conve 
sing on their spiritual state, one of whom had very re 
cently found comfort, after spiritual trouble and d 
tress. In the afternoon was somewhat assisted aga 
though weak and weary. Three persons this day mad 
a public profession of their faith. Was in a comfor 
able frame in the evening, and enjoyed some satisfa 
tion in secret prayer. I have rarely felt myself so f 
of tenderness as this day. r 
August 11.—“ Being about to set out on a journey t 
the Susquehanna the next day, with leave of Proy 
dence, I spent some time this day in prayer with 
people, that God would bless and succeed my inten 
journey, that he would send forth his blessed Spit 
with his word, and set up his kingdom among the por 
Indians in the wilderness. While I was opening 
applying part of the 110th and 111th Psalms, the p 
of God seemed to descend on the assembly in some me 
sure ; and while I was making the first prayer, nun 
bers were melted, and I found some affectionate 
lorgement of soul myself. Preached from Acts, 4:8 


2 


$ 


746.] ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 285 


And when they had prayed, the place was shaken,’ &c. 
od helped me, and my interpreter also; there was a 
haking and melting among us; and several, I doubt 
ot, were in some measure ‘filled with the Holy Ghost.’ 
fierward, Mr. Macnight prayed ; and I then opened 
1e two last stanzas of the 72d Psalm; at which time 
od was present with us; especially while I insisted 
pon the promise of all nations blessing the great Re- 
eemer. Mysoul was refreshed, to think that this day 
lis blessed, glorious season, should surely come; and I 
ust numbers of my dear people were also refreshed. 
fterward prayed ; had some freedom, but was almost 
vent ; then walked out, and left my people to carry 
n religious exercises among themselves. They prayed 
speatedly, and sung, while I rested and refreshed my- 
lf. Afterward went to the meeting, prayed with, and 
ismissed the assembly. Blessed be God, this has been 
day of grace. There were many tears and affec- 
onate sobs among us this day. In the evening my 
ul was refreshed in prayer; enjoyed liberty at the 
lrone of grace, in praying for my people and friends, 
d the church of God in general. ‘ Bless the Lord, 
/my soul.’” 

The next day he set out on his journey toward the 
isquehanna, and six of his Christian Indians with 
im, whom he had chosen out of his congregation, as 
lose he judged most fit to assist him in the business 
on which he was going. He took his way through 
iladelphia; intending to go to the Susquehanna, far 
Wn, Where it is settled by the white people, below 
e country inhabited by the Indians; and so to travel 
the river to the Indian habitations. For although 
is was much farther, yet hereby he avoided the moun- 
§ and hideous wilderness that must be crossed in 


Thad a secret hope that I might speedily: get a dism 


286 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ch 


the nearer way; which in time past he found to” 
extremely difficult and fatiguing. 

Aug. 19.—“ Lodged by the side of the Susquehan 
Was weak and disordered both this and the preceding 
day, and found my spirits considerably damped, meet 
ing with none that I thought godly people. 

Aug. 20.—“ Having lain in a cold sweat all night] 
coughed up much bloody matter this morning, 2 
was under great disorder of body, and not a little 
lancholy ; but what gave me some encouragement, ¥ 


sion from earth, and all its toils and sorrows. Rode this 
day to one Chambers’, upon the Susquehanna, and the 
lodged. Was much afflicted in the evening witl 
ungodly crew, drinking, swearing, &c. O what a/ 
would it be, to be numbered with the ungodly! ¥ 
joyed some agreeable conversation with a travel 
who seemed to have some relish of true religion. — 

Aug. 21.—“Rode up the river about fifteen miles, ¢ 
there lodged, in a family which appeared quite des 
tute of God. -Labored to discourse with the man ab 
the life of religion, but found him very artful in eva 
ding such conversation. O what a death it is to some 
to hear of the things of God! Was out of my element 
but was not so dejected as at some times. 

Aug. 22.—“ Continued my course up the river; ¥ 
people now being with me, who before were part 
from me; travelled above all the English settlement 
at night lodged in the open woods, and slept with mor 
comfort than while among an ungodly company 
white people. Enjoyed some liberty in secret praj 
this evening; and was helped to remember dear frien: 
as well as my dear flock, and the church - od in 
general. 


1745.) ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 287 


Aug. 23.—“ Arrived at the Indian town, called Shau- 
noking, near night ; was not so dejected as formerly, 
mut yet somewhat exercised. Felt composed in the 
vening, and enjoyed some freedom in leaving my all 
vith God. 

Lord’s day, Aug. 24.—“ Toward noon, visited some of 
he Delawares, and conversed with them about Chris- 
lanity. In the afternoon discoursed to the King, and 
thers, upon divine things; who seemed disposed to 
ear. Spent most‘of the day in these exercises. In 
he evening enjoyed some comfort and satisfaction ; 
nd especially had some sweetness in secret prayer. 
‘this duty was made so agreeable to me, that I loved 
) walk abroad, and repeatedly engage in it. O how 
omfortable is a little glimpse of God! 

Aug. 25.—“Spent most of the day in writing. Sent 
ut my people that were with me, to talk with the In- 
ians, and contract a friendship and familiarity with 
lem, that I might have a better opportunity of treat- 
ig with them about Christianity. Some good seemed 
) be done by their visit this day, many appeared will- 
ig to hearken to Christianity. My spirits were a little 
efreshed this evening, and I found some liberty and 
atisfaction in prayer. 

Aug. 26.—“ About noon, discoursed to a considerable 
umber cf Indians. .God helped me, I am persuaded ; 
ir I was enabled to speak with much plainness, and 
pme warmth and: power; and the discourse had im- 
ression upon some, and made them appear very se- 
ous. I thought things now appeared as encouraging 

they did at Crossweeks. At the time of my first 

t to those Indians, I wasa little encouraged; I press- 

things with all my might, and called out my peo- 

, who were then present, to give in their testsmony 


—— a 


288 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 


for God; which they did. Toward night, was re 
ed; hada heart to pray for the setting up of Ge 
kingdom here, as well as for my dear congreg: 
below, and my dear friends elsewhere. 

Aug. 28.—“In the forenoon, I was under great ¢ 
cern of mind about my work. Was visited by 
who desired to hear me preach; discoursed to the 
in the afternoon with some fervency, and labored 
persuade them to turn to God. . Was full of cone 
for the kingdom of Christ, and found some enlarg 
ment of soul in prayer, both in secret and in my fam 
Scarce ever saw more clearly, than this day, that 
God’s work to convert souls, and especially poor 
thens. I knew I could not touch them; I saw I co 
only speak to dry bones, but could give them no sé 
of what I said. My eyes were up to God for help 
could say the work was his; and if done, the g 
would be his. 

Lord's day, Aug. 31.—“Spent much time, in 
morning, in secret duties; found a weight upon 
spirits, and could not but ery to God with concern 
engagement of soul. Spent some time also in readin 
and expounding God’s word to my dear family 
was with me, as well as in singing and prayer wit 
them. Afterwards spake the word of God to som 
few of the Susquehanna Indians. In the afternoor 
felt very weak and feeble. Near night was somewhe 
refreshed in mind, with some views of things relati 
to my great work. O how heavy is my work, whe 
faith cannot take hold of an almighty arm for the pi 
formance of it! Many times have I been ready to sin! 
in this case. Blessed be God, that I may ine ‘ 
full fountain! 

_ Sept. 1.—“Set out on a a toward a_ 


i 


1746.) ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 287 


called The great Island, about fifty miles distant from 
Shaumoking, on the north-western branch of the Sus- 
quehanna. Travelled some part of the way, and af 
night lodged in the woods. Was exceedingly feeble 
this day, and sweat much the night following. 
_ Sept. 2.—~“Rode forward, but no faster than my peo- 
gle went on foot. Was very weak, on this as well as 
he preceding days. I was so feeble and faint, that I 
eared it would kill me to lie out in the open air; and 
iome of our company being parted from us, So that we 
now no axe with us, I had no way but to climb 
. a young pine-tree, and with my knife to lop the 
| hes, and so make a shelter from the dew. But 
Bevcuine being cloudy, with a prospect of rain, I 
gas still under fears of being extremely exposed : 
Wweat much, so that my linen was almost wringing 
et all night. I scarcely ever was more weak and 
ary than this evening, when I was able to sit up at 
This was a melancholy situation ; but I endeavor- 
ho quiet myself with considerations of the possibility 
my being in much worse circumstances amongst 
hemies, &c. 
Sept. 3.—“Rode to the Delaware-town; found ma- 
y drinking and drunken. Discoursed with some of 
e Indians about Christianity ; observed my Interpre- 
Pmuch engaged, and assisted in his work; a few per- 
5 seemed to hear with great earnestness and engage- 
amt of soul. About noon, rode to a smail town of 
auwaunoes, about eicht miles distant; spent an hour 
two there, ard returned to the Delaware-town, and 
iged there. Was scarce ever more confounded with 
ense of my own unfruitfulness and unfitness for my 
tk thannow. Owhata dead, heartless, barren, un+ 


aitable wretch did I now see myself to be! My 
5 Brainerd. 


290 LIFE OF NERD. 


spirits, were so low, and. i was 
wnat I could do nothing at - At length, being n 
overdone, lay down on a buffalo-skin; but sweat m 
the whole night. 

Sept. 4.—“ Discoursed with the Indians, in the mo 
ing, about Christianity; my Interpreter, afterwan 
carrying on the discourse to a considerable len h 
Some few appeared well disposed, and somewhat affect 
ed. Left this place, and returned toward Shaumoki 
and at night lodged in the place where I lodge¢ 
Monday night before: was in very uncomfortable 
cumstances in the evening, my people being late 
not coming to me till past ten at night; so that [] 
no fire to dress any victuals, or to keep me warn 
keep off wild beasts; and I was scarce ever more W 
and exhausted. However, I lay down and slept befor 
my people came up, expecting nothing else but to s 
the whole night alone, and without fire. 

Sept. 5.—“ Was exceeding weak, so that Ie 
searcély ride; it seemed sometimes as if I must 
from my horse, and lie in the open woods: howe) 
got to Shaumoking toward night: felt somewhat 
spirit of thankfulness, that God had so far returned me 
was refreshed to see one of my Christians, whee I 
here in my late excursion. 

Sept. 6.—“ Spent the day ina very weak state ; cough 
ing and spitting blood, and having little appetite forat 
food I had with me; was able to do very little, exe 
discourse a while i divine things to my own peo 
and to sume few I met with. Had, by this time, vel 
little life or heart to speak for God, through feeblen 
of body. Was scarcely ever more ashamed and e 
founded in myself than now. I was sensible the 

there were numbers of God’s people who knew . 


'746.} ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 291 


hen out upon a design, or atleast the pretence, of doing 
omething for God, and in his cause, among the poor 
ndians; and they were ready to suppose that I was 
ervent in spirit ; but Othe heartless frame of my mind 
illed me with confusion! O, methought, if God’s peo- 
jle knew me as God knows, they would not think so 
ighly of my zeal and resolution for God as perhaps 
jow they do! I could not but desire they should see 
ow heartless and irresolute I was, that they might be 
ndeceived, and ‘not think of me above what they ought 
) think.’ And yet I thought, if they saw the utmost 
fmy unfaithfulness, the smallness of my courage and 
esolution for God, they would be ready to shut me out 
{ their doors, as unworthy of the company or friend- 
hip of Christians. 
_Lord’s day, Sept.'7—“ Was much in the same weak 
late of body, and afflicted frame of mind, as in the 
receding day: my soul was grieved, and mourned 
at I could do nothing for God. Read and expounded 
yme part of God’s word to my own dear family, and 
Jent some time in prayer with them; discoursed alse 
little to the Pagans; but spent the Sabbath with a 
ttle comfort. 

| Sept. 8.—“‘Spent the forenoon among the Indians; 
the afternoon, left Shaumoking, and returned down 
le river a few miles. Had proposed to tarry a con- 
table time longer among the Indians upon the Sus 
hanna, but was hindered from pursuing my ‘/pur- 
“4 by the sickness that prevailed there, the feeble 
ate of my own people that were with me, and espe- 
ly my own extraordinary weakness, having beex 
fércised with great nocturnal sweats, and a coughing 
) Of blood, almost the whole of the journey. I was 
areat part of the time so feeble and faint, that it seem- 


| 


im 


292 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [{Chap. 


ed as though I never should be able to reach hon 
and at the same time very destitute of the comfor 
and even the necessaries of life; at least, what was 
cessary for one in so weak a state. In this journe 
sometimes was enabled to speak the word of God w 
some power, and divine truth made some impressio} 
on those who heard me; so that several, both men an 
women, old and young, seemed to cleave to us, and 
well disposed toward Christianity ; but others moel 
and shouted, which damped those who before seer 
friendly, atleast some of them. Yet God, at times, ¥ 
evidently present, assisting me, my Interpreter, 
other dear friends who were withme. God gaveso! 
times a good degree of freedom in prayer for the 
gathering of souls there; and I could not but ente 
a strong hope, that the journey would not be whe 
fruitless. Whether the issue of it would be the sett 
up of ‘Christ’s kingdom there, or only the drawing 
some few persons down to my congregation in N 
Jersey; or whether they were now only preparing 
some farther attempts that might be made among the 
T did not determine; but I was persuaded the jour 
would not be lost. Blessed be God, that I had ; 
encouragement and hope. 

Sept. 9.—“ Rode down the river near thirty mil 
Was extremely weak, much fatigued, and wet wi 
thunder storm. Discoursed with some warmth 
closeness to some poor ignorant souls, on the life a 
power of religion : what were, and what were not t 
evidences of it. They seemed much astonished whe 
they saw my Indians ask a blessing and give thanksa 
* dinner, concluding éhat a very high evidence of 
in them; but were equally astonished when I insiste 
that neither that, nor yet seeret prayer, was any st 


746.} AT CRANBERRY. 293 


‘ , 
vidence of grace. Othe ignorance of the world! How 
resome empty outward forms, that may all be entire- 
‘selfish, mistaken for true religion, infallible evidences 
‘it! The Lord pity a deluded world ! 
Sept. 11.—“ Rode homeward ; but was very weak, 
id sometimes scarce able to ride. Had a very impor- 
nate invitation to preach at a meeting-house I came 
7, te people being then gathered, but could not by 
ason of weakness. Was resigned and composed un- 
ir my weakness ; but was much exercised with con- 
m for my companions in travel, whom I had left 
th much regret, some lame, and some sick. 
Sept. 20.—“ Arrived among my own people, (near 
anberry,) just atnight : found them praying together; 
mt in, and gave them some account of God’s deal- 
38 with me and my companions in the journey ; 
ich seemed affecting to them. I then prayed witli 
am, and thottght the divine presence was among us ; - 
feral were melted into tears, and seemed to have a 
ase of divine things. Being very weak, I was obliged 
yn to repair to my lodgings, and felt much worn 
in the evening. Thus God has ¢arried me through 
p fatigues and perils of another journey to the Sus- 
Phanna, and returned me again in safety, though 
der a great degree of bodily indisposition. O that 
soul were truly thankful for renewed instances of 
jrey ! Many hardships and distresses I endured in this" 
ney ; but the Lord supported me under them all.” 
ditherto Bratern had kept a constant diary, giving 
‘account of what passed from day to day, with very 
J mterruption ; but henceforward his diary is very, 
ich interrupted by his illness ; under which he was 
2 brought so low, as either not to be capabie of 
ing, or not well able to bear the burden: of a cary 
BD 25* 


294 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Cha 


so constant as was requisite to recollect every evel 
what had passed in the day, and digest it, and puto 
paper an orderly account of it. However, his diar 
was not wholly neglected ; but he took care, from 
to time, to take some notice in it of the most materi: 
things concerning himself and the state of his min 
even tiil within a few days of his death... ; 

Lord’s day, Sept. 21, 1746.—* I was so weak that 
could not preach, nor pretend to ride over to my peop) 
in the forenoon. In the afternoon rode out; sat i 
ehair, and discoursed to them from Rom. 14: 7, 8 
was strengthened and helped in my diseourse, 
there appeared something agreeable in the assem 
I returned to my lodgings extremely tired, but th 
ful that I had been enabled to speak a word to 
poor people, from whom I had been so long abs 
Was enabled to sleep very little this night, thre 
weariness and pain. O how blessed should I be, ii 
little I do were all done with right views! O 
* whether I live, I might live to the Lord ; or wheth 
die, I might die unto the Lord ; that, whether livin 
dying, I might be the Lord’s ? 3 

Sept. 27.—“ Spent this day, as well as the wi 
week. past, under a great degree of bodily weak 
exercised with a violent cough and a eonsider: 
fever. I had no-appetite for any kind of food, e 
not retain it on my stomach, and frequently had li 
rest in my bed, owing to pains in my breast and 
I was able, however, to ride over to my people, ak 
two miles, every day, and take some eare of those wh 
were then at work upon a small house for me to re: 
in among the Indians.* I was sometimes searee 


* This was the fourth house he built for his residence amon 
the Indians. Beside that at Kaunaumeek, and that at 1 


| 


1746.) AT CRANBERRY- 295 


to walk, and never able to sit up the whole day, through 
the week. Was calm and composed,-and but little ex- 
ercised with melaneholy, as in former seasons of weak- 
ness. Whether I should ever recover or no, seemed 
very doubtful; but this was many times a comfort to 
me, that life and death did not depend upon my choice. 
I was pleased to think, that He who is infinitely wise, © 
the determination of this matter; and that I had 
no trouble to consider and weigh things-upon all sides, 
in order to make the choice whether I should Jive or 
die. Thus my time was consumed ; I had little strength 
‘0 pray, none to write or read, and scarce any to me- 
ditate ; but, through divine goodness, I could with great 
zomposure look death in the face, and frequently with 
sensible joy. © how blessed it is to be habitually pre- 
nared for death ! 
| Lord’s day, Sept. 28.—‘ Rode to my people, and, 
though under much weakness, attempted to preach 
Tom 2 Cor. 13:5. Discoursed about half an hour, at 
which season divine power seemed to attend the word : 
dut being extremely weak, I was obliged to desist ; and 
ifler a turn of faintness, with much difficulty rode to 
ny lodgings, where, betaking myself to my bed, I lay’ 
na burning fever, and almost delirious for several 
ours, till, toward morning, my fever went off with a 
molent sweat. I have often been feverish and unable 
fo rest quietly after preaching; but this was the most 
evere, distressing turn, that ever preaching brought 
Npon me. Yet I felt perfeetly at rest in my own mind, 
pecause I had made my utmost attempts to speak for 
pd, and knew I could do no more. 


"i 
‘orks of Delaware, and another at Crossweeksung, he built one 
ial at Cranberry 


a 


296 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ‘[Chep. 


Oct. 4.—“ Spent the former part of this week under 
a great degree of infirmity and disorder, as I had dot 
several weeks before ; was able, however, to ride a Ip 
every day, although unable to sit up half the day, 
Thursday. ‘Took some care daily of some persons 
work upon my house. On Friday afternoon found n 
self wonderfully revived and strengthened. Havi 
gome time before given notice to my people, and thi 
of them at the Forks of Delaware in particular, that 
designed, with the leave of Providence, to admini 
the Lord’s supper upon the first Sabbath im October, 
on Friday afternoon I preached preparatory to t 
ordinance, from 2 Cor. 13 : 5; finishing what Ih 
proposed to offer upon the subject the Sabbath befo 
The sermon was blessed of God to the stirring up 
gious affection and a spirit of devotion in his peop 
and greatly affected one who had backslidden fr 
God, which caused him to judge and condemn hims 
I was surprisingly strengthened in my work w il 
was speaking; but was obliged immediately after 
repair to bed, being now removed into my own ho 
among: the Indians. Spent’ some time in convers 
with my people about divine things as I lay upon 1 
bed, and found my soul refreshed, though my bo 
was weak.—This being Saturday, I discoursed pat 
eularly with divers of the communicants; and this) 
fernoon preached from Zech. 12: 10. There seem 
to be a tender melting and hearty mourning for sin, 
numbers in the congregation. My soul was in a col 
fortavle frame, and I enjoyed freedom and assistan 
in public service ; was myself, as Well as most of tf 
congregation, much affected with the humble confe 
sion and apparent broken-heartedness of the forem 
tioned backslider, and could not but rejoice that God 


re a 


1746.] AT €RANBERRY- 297 


had given him such a sen&e of his sin and unworthi- 
ness. Was extiemely tired in the evening, but lay on 
my bed, and ‘iscoursed to my people. 

Lords day, Oct. 5.—“ Was still very weak; and in 
he morning considerably afraid I should not be able 
0 go through the work of the day; having much to 
Jo, both in private and public. Discoursed before the 
idministration of the Lord’s supper, from John, 1: 29, 
Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins. 
yf the world.’ Where I considered (1.) in what re- 
pects Christ is called the ‘Lamb of God;’ and ob- 
erved that he is so called, from the purity aud inno- 
ency of his nature—from his meekness and patience 
mder sufferings—from his being that atonement which 
vas pointed out in the sacrifice | of lambs, and in parti- 
ular by the pesehal lamb. (2.) Considered how ana 
n what sense he ‘takes away the ‘Sin of the world; 
nd observed, that the means and manner in and by 
vhich he takes away the sins of men, was his ‘ giving 
\imself for them,’ doing and suffering in their room 
nd stead, &c. And he is said to take away the sin of 

e world, not because all the world shall actually be 
edeemed from sin by him, but because he has done 
nd suffered sufficient to answer for the sins of the 
yorld, and so to redeem all mankind ;—he actually 
oes take away the sins of the elect acl And (3. ) 
onsidered how we are to behold him, in order to have 
ur sins taken away. Not with our bodily eyes; nor 
y imagining him on the cross, &c.; but by a spiritual 
iew of his glory and goodness, engages the soul to 
ely on him, &c.—The divine presence attended this 
jiscourse ; and the assembly was considerably melted 
rith divine truth. After sermon, two made a public 
rofession, and I administered the Lord’s: supper to 


| 


a ~~ oe tail Ta - 


208 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 


i} ‘ 
near forty communicants Of the Indians, besides dis 
vers dear Christians of the white people. It seeme 
to be a season of divine power and grace; and numb 
seemed to rejoice in God. O the swéet union and ha 
mony then appearing among the religious peopl 
My soul was refreshed, and my religious friends 
the white people with me. After the ordinance, cou 
searcely get home, though it was not more than twer 
rods ; but was supported and led by my friends, al 
laid on my bed; where I lay in pain till some time if 
the evening; and then was able to sit up and discow 

‘with friends. O how was this day spent in prayers 
and praises among my dear people! One might h 
them, all the morning before public worship, and 
the evening, till near midnight, praying and singi 
praises to God, in one or other of their houses. 
‘soul was refreshed, though my body was weak. 
Oct. 11.—“ Toward night was seized with an ague, 
which was followed with a hard fever and conside 
able pain; was treated with great kindness; and ¥ 
ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy 
creature as I knew myself to be. Was in a comfe 
able frame of mind, wholly submissive, with regard te 
life or death. Jt was indeed a peculiar satisfaction” 
me, to think fhat it was not my concern or business’ 
determine whether I should live or die. I likey 
felt peculiarly satisfied, while under this uncomm 
degree of disorder; being now fully convinced of 
being really weak, and unable to perform my work. 
Whereas, at other times, my mind was perplexed w 
fears that I was a misimprover Of time, by conceiving 
I was sick, when I was not in reality’so. O how pre 
cious is time! And how guilty it makes mé feel, when 
J think that I have trifiled away and misimproved i 


f 


i i s = 


746.4: AT CRANBERRY. 299 


3 neglected to fill up each part of it with duty, to the 
itmost of my ability and capacity! 
Lord's day, Oct. 19.—“ Was scarcely able to do any 
hing at all in the week past, except that on Thursday 
‘rode out about four miles ; at which time I took cold. 
is I was able to do little or nothing, so I enjoyed not 
auch spirituality, or lively OS affection; though 
tsome times I longed much to be more fruitful and 
l of heavenly affection; and was grieved to see the 
ours slide away, while I could do nothing for God.— 
able this week to attend public worship. Was 
posed and comfortable, willing either to die or 
; but found it hard to be reconciled to the thoughts 
living useless. Oh that I might never live to bea 
arden to God’s creation; but that I might be allowed 
pair home, when my sojourning work is done!” 
is week, he went back to his Indians at Cran- * 
, to take some care of their spiritual and tempo- 
concerns ; and was much spent with riding, though 
erode but @ little way in a day. 
Oct. 23.—“ Went to my own house, and set things 
1order. Was very weak, and somewhat melancholy; 
bored to do something, but had no strength; and 
fas forced to lie down on my bed, very solitary. 
| Oct. 24.—“ Spent the day in overseeing and direct- 
ag my people, about mending their fence and secur- 
ag their wheat. Found that all their concerns of a 
ecular nature depended upon me. Was somewhat 
freshed.in the evening, having been able to do some- 
ag valuable in the day-time. O how it pains me to 
e time pass away, when I can do nothing to any 


Deore day, Oct. 26.—* In the morning was exceed- 
agly weak. Spent the day, till near night, in pain, to 


300 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [-Chap. 


see my poor people wandering ‘as sheep not havin 
a shepherd, waiting and hoping to see me able t 
preach to them before night. It could not but distres 
me to see them in this case, and to find myself unab 
to attempt any thing for their spiritual benefit. 
toward night, finding myself a little better, I ce 
them together to my house, and sat down, and 
and expounded Matthew, 5:1—16. This disco 
though delivered in much weakness, was attended w 
power to many of the hearers; especially what y 
spoken upon the last of these verses; where I insist 
on the infinite wrong done to religion, by having ¢ 
light become darkness, instead of shining before m 
Many in the congregation were now deeply affect 
with a sense of their deficiency with respect to a 5 
ritual conversation which might recommend religic 
to others, and a spirit of concern and watchfulne 
seemed to be excited in them. One, in particular, wl 
had fallen in the sin of drunkenness some time befor 
was now deeply convinced of his sin, and the grea 
dishonor done to religion by his misconduct, ani 
discovered a_great degree of grief and concern on th 
account. My soul was refreshed to see this; al 
though I had no strength to speak so much as I wot \ 
have done, but was obliged to lie down on the bed, ye 
I rejoiced to see such an humble melting in the com 
gregation, and that divine truths, though faintly d 
vered, were aitended with so much efficacy upon 
auditory. 

Oct. 27.—“ Spent the day in overseeing and di 
ing the Indians about mending the fence round 7 
wheat: was able to walk with them, and contrive the 
business, all the forenoon. In the afternoon, was ¥ 
sited by two dear friends, and spent some time in cor 


746.) AT CRANBERRY. 301 


ersation with them. Toward night I was able to 
yalk out, and take care of the Indians again. In the 
vening, enjoyed a very peaceful frame. 
"Oct. 28.— Rode to Princeton in a very weak state, 
ad such a violent fever by the way, that I was forced 
) alight at a friend’s house, and lie down for some 
me. Near night, was visited by Mr. Treat, Mr. Beaty 
nd his wife, and another friend. My spirits were re- 
eshed to see them; but I was surprised, and even 
shamed, that they had taken so much pains as to ride 
irty or forty miles to see me. Was able to sit up 
ost of the evening; and spent the time in a very 
ymfortable manner with my friends. 
Oct. 29.—“ Rode about ten miles with my friends 
© came yesterday to see me; and then parted with 
em all but one, who stayed on purpose to keep me 
eeeny, and cheer my spirits. 
Lord's day, Nov. 2.— Was unable to preach, and 
cely able to sitwp the whole day. Was grieved, 
Rircost sunk, to see my poor people destitute of the 
eans of grace; especially as they could not read, and 
bs under great disadvantages for spending the 


bath comfortably. ©, methought, I could:be con- 
ited to be sick, if my poor flock had a faithful pastor 
feed them with spiritual knowledge! A view of 
.. want of this was more afllictive to me than all my 
dily illness. 
Nov. 3.—“ Being now in so weak and low a state 
at I was utterly incapable of performing my work, 
d having little hope of recovery, unless by much 
ing, I thought it my duty to take a journey into 
/-England, and to divert myself among my friends, 
om I had not now seen for a long time. Accord- 


ly I took leave of my congregation this day. Be 
Brainerd, 


i 
i 


302 LIFE OF BRAINERD Lc 


fore I left my people, I visited them all in their resp 
tive houses, and discoursed to each one, as T though 
most proper and suitable for their circumstances, ani 
found great freedom in so doing. I scarcely left ¢ 
house but some were in tears; and many were 
only affected with my being about to leave them, 
with the solemn addresses I made them upon divi 
things; for I was helped to be fervent in spirit w i 
discoursed to them. When I had thus gone throug! 
my congregation, which took me~most of the ¢ 
and had taken leave of them, and of the school, I 
home, and rode about two miles, to the house whel 
lived in the summer past, and there lodged. Was 
freshed this evening, because I had left my congre 
tion so well disposed and affected, and had been 
much assisted in making my farewell addresses to 
Nov. 5.—* Rode to Elizabethtown; intending 
soon as possible, to prosecute my journey into 
England; but was, in an hour or two after my arr 
taken much worse. For near a week I was confine¢ 
my chamber, and most of the time to my bed; 
then so far revived as to be able to walk abou 
house; but was still confined within doors. } 
“ In the beginning of this extraordinary turn of ( 
order after my coming to Elizabethtown, I was eI 
abled, through mercy, ‘to maintain a calm, compose 
and patient spirit, as I had been before from the begin 
ning of my weakness. After I had been in Elizabett 
town about a fortnight, and had so far recovered th 
I was able to walk about the house, upon a day ™ 
thanksgiving kept in this place, I was enabled to ree 
the mercies of God in such a manner as greatly affee 
ed me, and filled me with thankfulness and 
Especially my soul praised God for his work of 


1746. | AT ELIZABETHTOWN 303 


among the Indians, and the enlargement of his dear 
kingdom. My soul blessed God for what he is in him- 
self, and adored him, that he ever would display him- 
self to creatures. I rejoiced that he was God, and 
onged that all should: know it, and feel it, and rejoice 
mit. ‘Lord, glorify thyself” was the eae and ery 
4 my soul. O that all people might love and praise 
he blessed God ; that he might have all possible honor 
ind glory from the intelligent world ! 
_ “After this comfortable thanksgiving season, I fre- 
quently enjoyed freedom, enlargement, and engaged- 
iess of soul in prayer; and was enabled to mtercede 
with God for my dear congregation, very often for 
wvery family, and every person in particular. It was 
yften a' great comfort to me, that I could pray heartily 
0 God for those to whom I could not speak, and whom 
/ was not allowed to see. But, at other times, my spi- 
‘its were so low, and my bodily vigor so be wasted, 

t I had scarce any affections at all. 

“Tn December, I had revived so far as to be able to 


abroad and visit’my friends, and seemed to be> 


er 21, when I attended public worship, and labored 
mich, at the Lord’s table, to bring forth a certain cor- 
so and have it alain: as being an enemy to God 


3 health, in the main, until Lord’s day, Decem- 


my Own soul; and could not but hope that I had 
ined some strength against this, as well as other cor- 
uptions; and felt some brokenness of heart for my sin. 

After this, having perhaps taken some cold, I began 
0 decline as to bodily health; and continued to do so 
li the latter end of January, 1747. Having a violent 
ugh, a considerable fever, an asthmatic disorder, and 
Oappetite for any manner of food, nor any power of 
gestion, I was reduced to so low a state, that my 
| 


304 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 


friends, I believe, generally despaired of my life; 3 
some of them, for a considerable time, thought I ¢ 
searce live a day. I could then think of nothing w 
any application of mind, and seemed to be in a gi 
measure void of all affection, and was exereised 
great temptations; but yet was not, ordinarily, af 
of death. 

Lord’s day, Feb. 1.—“ Though in a very weak: 
low state, I enjoyed a considerable degree of com 
and sweetness in divine things; and was enable 
plead and use arguments with God in prayer, I th 
with a child-like spirit. That passage of seriptui 
curred to my mind, and gave me-great assistance 
ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to 
children, how much more will your heavenly F 
give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him? Thi 
I was helped to plead, and insist upon; and saw tht 
vine faithfulness engaged for dealing with mek 
than any earthly parent can do with his child. 
season so refreshed my soul, that my body seeme¢ 
to bea gainer by it. From this time I began gradu 
to amend. -AsJ recovered some strength, vigor,’ 
spirit, I found at times some freedom and life in the 
ercises of devotion, and some longings after spiritu 
and a life of usefulness to the interests of the great 
deemer. Atother times, I was awfully barren and] 
less, and out of frame for the things of God; so th 
was ready often to cry out, ‘O that it were witlid m 
in months past!’ O that God had taken me awaj 
the midst of my usefulness, with a sudden stroke, | 
I might not have been under a necessity of trifling aw 
time in diversions! © that I had never lived to sp 
so much precious time.in so poor a manner, and t 
little purpose! Thus I often reflected, was grié 


'747.} AT ELIZABETHTOWN. 30% 


ashamed, and even confounded, sunk, and discouraged. 

Feb. 24.—“1 was able to ride as far as Newark, 
‘having been confined in Elizabethtown almost four 
nonths,) and the next day returned to Elizabethtowm. 
My spirits were somewhat refreshed with the ride, 
hough my body was weary. 

Feb. 28.—Was visited by an Indian of my own con 
sregation, who brought me letters, and good news of 
he sober and good behavior of my people in general. 
Phis refreshed’ my soul. I could not but retire and 
less God for his goodness; and found, I trust, a truly 
hankful frame of spirit, that God creme to be build- 
ug up that congregation for himself. 

March 4.—“1 met with reproof from a friend, which, 
though I thought I did not deserve it from hii, yet 
vas, I trust, blessed of God to make me more tenderly 
ifraid of sin, more jealous over myself, and more con- 
erned to keep both heart and life pure and unblame- 
ible. It likewise caused me to reflect on my past dead- 
less and want of spirituality, and to abhor myself, and 
o0k on myself as most unworthy. This frame of 
mind continued the next day; and for several days 
fter, I grieved to think that.in my necessary diver- 
ions I had not maintained more seriousness, solemni- 
, and heavenly affection and conversation. Thus 
y spirits were often depressed and sunk; and yet, I 
st, that reproof was made to be beneficial to me. 

March 11, being kept in Elizabethtown asa day of 
asting and prayer, I was able to attend public worshi P; 
hich was the first time I had been able so to do since 
mber 21. O how much weakness and distress did 
od carry me through in this space of time! But 

ving obtained help from him,’ I yet live. O that 
ape live more to his glory! 

! 26* 


[Chap: 


Lords day, March 15.—“ Was able again to atte} 
public worship, and felt some earnest desires of bei 
restored to the ministerial work: felt, I think, so 
spirit and: life to speak for God. 

March 18.—“ Rode out with a design to visit 
people, and the next day arrived among tiem; 1 
was under great dejection in my journey. 

“On Friday morning I rose early, walked ab 
among my people, enquired into their state and ¢ 
cerns, and found an additional weight and burde 
my spirits, upon hearing some things disagreeable. 
endeavored to go to God with my distresses, and mi 
some kind of lamentable complaint, and im a brok 
manner spread my difficulties before God; but notw 
standing, my mind continued very gloomy. Abi 
ten o’clock I called my people together, and af 
having explained and sung a psalm, I prayed ¥ 
them. There was considerable affection among the 
I doubt not, in some instances, that which was m 
than nore natural.” 

This was the last interview whith he ever had wi 
his people. About eleven o’clock the same day he 
them, and the next day came to Hlizabethtown.: — 

March 28.—“ Was taken this morning with vie 
griping pains. These pains were extreme and © 
stant’ for several hours; so that it seemed imposs' 
for me, without a miracle, tolive twenty-four hour: 
such distress. I lay confined to my bed the w 
day, and in distressing pain all the former part o 
but it pleased God to bless means for the abatemer 
my distress. Was exceedingly weakened by this p 
and continued so for several days following; being 
ercised with a fever, cough, and noeturnal sweats. 
this distressed case, so long as my head was fre 


306 LIFE OF BRAINERD’ 


- 


i 
(747.] a? ELIZABETHTOWN. 307 


vapory confusions, death appeared agreeable to me. 
{looked on it as the end of toils, and an entrance into 
a place ‘where the weary are at rest;’ and think I had 
some relish for the entertainmenis of the heavenly- 
state; so that by these I was allured and drawn, as well 
as driven by the fatigues of life. O how happy it is 
fo be drawn by desires of a state of perfect holiness! 
» April 4.—“ Was sunk and dejected, very restless and 
Mneasy,. by reason of the misimprovement of time; 
and yet knew not what to do. I longed to spend time 
mm fasting and prayer, that I might be delivered fronr 
indolence and coldness in the things of God; but, alas, 
I had not bodily strength for these exercises! O how 
blessed a thing it is to enjoy peace of conscience! but 
how dreadful is a want of inward peace and com- 
posure of soul! It is impossible, I find, to enjoy this 
ppiness without redeeming iime, and maintaining 2 
iritual frame of mind. 
» Lord's day, April 5.—“It grieved me to find myself 
0 inconceivably barren. My soul thirsted for grace; 
t, alas, how far was I from obtaining what appeared 
me so exceeding excellent! I was ready to despair 
ever being a holy ereature, and yet my soul was de- 
ous of ‘ following hard after God ;’ but never did 
See myself so far from ‘having apprehended, or being 
ready perfect,’ as at this time. The Lord’s supper 
ing this day administered, I attended the ordinance; 
d though I saw in myself a dreadful emptiness and 
vant of grace, and saw myself as it were at an infinite 
listance from that purity which becomes the gospel, 
et at the communion, especially during the distribu- 
on of the bread, I enjoyed some warmth of affection, 
and felt a tender love to the brethren; and, I think, to 
he glorious Redeemer, the first-born among them. 


’ 


owt 


308 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 1 


endeavored then to bring forth mine and his ‘enemies, 
and ‘slay them before him;’ and found great freedom 
in begging deliverance from this spiritual death, a 
well as in asking divine favors for my friends and ec 
gregation, and the church of Christ in general. _ 
April 10.—“This day my brother John arrived at 
Elizabethtown. Spent some time in conversation wi 
him ; but was extremely weak.” 
This brother had been sent for by the Corresponé deni 
to take care of and instruct Brainerd’s congregation 
Indians ; he being obliged by his illness to be absent 
from at He continued to take care of them 
Brainerd’s death, and was soon after ordained his s 
cessor in his mission, and to the charge of his cong 
gation. 
April 17.—“ In the evening, could not but think th 
God helped me to ‘draw near to the throne of grace 
though most unworthy, and gave me a sense of his f 
vor; which afforded me inexpressible support and et 
couragement. Though I scarcely dared to hope thi 
the mercy was real, it appeared so great; yet could ni n 
but rejoice that ever God should discover his reco! 
eiled face to such a vile sinner. Shame and confusion, 
at times, covered me ; and then hope, and joy, and ad 
miration of divine goodness gained the ascendaney. 
Sometimes I could not but admire the divine goodnes 
that the Lord had not let me fall into all the grosse 
and vilest acts of sin. “7% 
April 20.—“ Was ina very disordered state, and kept 
my bed most of the day. I enjoyed : a little more com- 
fort than in several of the preceding days. This dat 
T arrived at the age of twenty-nine years. 
April 21.—“I set out on my journey for New- Eng- 


% 


(1747) IN CONNECTICUT. 309 


land, in order (if it might be the will of God) to recover 
my health by riding.” 

' This proved his final departure from New-Jersey. 
He travelled slowly, and arrived among his friends at 
East-Haddam, about the beginning of May. There is 
very little account in his diary, of the time that passed 
from his setting out on his journey to May 10. He 
Speaks of his sometimes finding his heart rejoicing in 
‘the glorious perfections of God, and longing to live to 
him; but complains of the unfixedness of his thoughts, 
and their being easily diverted from divine subjects, 
and cries out of his leanness, as testifying against him, 
mm the loudest manner. Concerning those diversions 
which he was obliged to use for his health, he says, 
that he sometimes found he could use diversions with 
singleness of heart,” aiming at the glory of God; but 
that he also found there was a necessity of great care 
and watchfulness, lest he should lose that spiritual tem- 
per of mind in his diversions, and lest they should de- 
generate into what was merely selfish, without any 
Supreme aim at the glory of God in them. 

| Lord’s day, May 10.—“T could not but feel some 
‘measure of gratitude to God at this time, that he had 
lalways disposed me, in my ministry, to insist on the 
[great doctrines of regeneration, the new creature, faith 
in Christ, progressive sanctification, supreme love to 
| God, living entirely to the glory of God, being not our 
own, and thelike. God thus helped me to see, in the 

)surest manner, from time to time, that these, and the 
ing doctrines nee connected with them, are the 
jonly foundation of safety and salvation for perishing 
‘sinners and that those divine dispositions which are 
feonsonant hereto, are that holiness, ‘ without which no 
luau shall see the Lord’ The exercise of these God- 


i 


™ 


~ 


‘Ing, in secret meditation and | 


310 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. |] 


like tempers—wherein the soul acts in a kind of co} 
cert with God, and would be and do every thing that 
is pleasing to him—I saw, would stand by the soul 
a dying hour; for God must, I think, deny himself 
he cast away his own image, even the soul that is o1 
in desires with himself. 
Lord’s day, May 17.—“ Spent the forenoon at hom 
being unable to attend public worship. At this time, 
God gave me such an affecting sense of my own vilés 
ness, and the exceeding sinfulness of my heart, thi 
there seemed to be nothing | but sin .and corrupti 
within me. ‘ Innumerable evils compassed me about 
my want of spiritua Rak d holy living, my neglect: 
God, and living to myself. All the abominations 
my eae and life seemed to be open to my view; a 
I had nothing to say, but, ‘God be merciful to | 
sinner.’ Toward noon, I saw that the grace of 
in Christ is infinitely free toward sinners, such sinn 
as I was. I also saw that God is the supreme goo 
that in his presence is life; and I began to long to di 
that I might be with him, in a state of freedom fro) 
all sin. O how a small glimpse of his excelleney r 
freshed my soul! O how worthy is the blessed Gi 
to be loved, adored, and delighted in, for himself, f 
his own divine excellcueied ! 
“Though i felt much dulness, and want of a a 
of prayer this week, yet I had some glimpses of f 
excellency of divine things; and especially one mor 
r, the excelleney 
-to the gloriot 


and tied of holiness, as a 


perfection. I seemed to long for this perfect holin eS, 
not so much for the sake of my own happiness, ab 


i 


ie) ; 3 \ 


747] IN NORTHAMPTON. 3il 


hough I saw clearly that this was the greatest, yea, the , 
mly happiness of the soul, as that I might please God, 
ive entirely to him, and glorify him to the utmost 
tretch = | Ptional powers and capacities, 

Lord’s day, May 24.—“ (At Long-Meadow, in Mas- 
achusetts.) Could not but think, as I have often re- 
iarked to others, that much more of true religion con- 
ists in deep humitity, brokenness of heart, and an abas- 
ng sense of barrenness and want of grace and holiness, 
lan most who are called Christians imagine ; especi- 
lly those who have been esteemed the converts of the 
ite day. Many seem to know of no other religion 
ut elevated joys and affections, arising only from some 
ights of imagination, or some suggestion made to their 
und, of Christ being their’s, God loving them, and the 
ke.” 

On Thursday, May 28, he came from Long-Meadow ' 
) Northampton, appearing vastly better than, by his 
count, he had been in the winter—indeed so well, 
lat he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and 
1 walk half a mile; and appeared cheerful, and free 
om melancholy ; 5 but yet he was iidouhijedhy: at that 
Ime, in a confirmed, incurable consumption: 

I had had much opportunity, before this, of partieu- 
r information concerning him, from many who were 
ell acquainted with him ; and had enjoyed a personal 
terview with him, at New-Haven, near four years 
fore, as has been already mentioned; but now I had 
portunity for a more;full acquaintance. T found him 
arkably sociable, pleasant, and entertaining in his 
mversation ; yet solid, Savory, spiritual, and very 
fitable. He appeared meek, modest, and humble; far 
m any stiffness, mioroseness, or affected coasalaniey 
Speech or behavior, and seeming to dislike all such 


ies 


812 LIFE OF BRAINERD. 


things. We enjoyed not only the benefit of his: 
yersation, but had the comfort and advantage of jj 
ing with him in family prayer, from time to time. | 
manner of praying was very agreeable, most hee 
ing a worm of the dust and a disciple of ist, 
dressing an infinitely great and holy God, the 
of mercies; not with florid expressions, or as ut 
eloquence ; not with any intemperate vehemence, 
indecent boldness. It was at the greatest distance fi 
‘ any appearance of ostentation, and from every thi 
that might look as though he meanj,to recomm 
himself to those that were about him, or set himself ¢ 
theiracceptance. It was free also from vain repetit 
without impertinent excursions, or needless multi 
ing of words. He expressed himself with the-st 
propriety, with weight and pungency ; and yet, ¥ 
his lips uttered seemed to flow from the fulness of 
heart, as deeply impressed with a great and sol 
sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and depende 
and of God’s infinite greatness, excellency and s 
ciency, rather than merely from a warm and frui 
brain, pouring out good expressions. , I know not | 
I ever heard him so much as ask a blessing or ret 
thanks at table, but there was something remarkah 
ve observed both in the matter and manner of the pet 
formance. In his, prayers, he insisted much on 
prosperity of Zion, the advancement of Christ’s k 
dom in the world, and the flourishing and propag 
of religion among the Indians. And he generally mi 
it one petition in his prayer, “ that we wight not outlir 
our usefulness.” 
Lord’s day, May 31.—* (At Northampton.) Tha 
little inward sweetness in religion most of the wes 
past ; not realizing and beholding spiritually the glot 


1747.] IN NORTHAMPTON. 313 


of God and the blessed Redeemer ; from whence al- 
ways arise my comforts and joys in religion, if I have 
ary at all; and if I’cannot so behold the excellencies 
and perfections of God, as to cause me to rejoice in him 
for what he is in himself, I have no solid foundation 
for joy. To rejoice, only because I apprehend I have 
aninterest in Christ, and shall be finally saved, isa poor 
mean business indeed.” 
- This week he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, 
concerning his illness; who plainly told him, that there 
were great evidences of his being in a confirmed co7- 
sumption, and that he could give him no encourage- 
Ment that he would ever recover. But it seemed not 
lo occasion the least discomposure in him, nor to make 
any manner of alteration as to the cheerfulness and 
serenity of his mind, or the freedom or pleasantness of 
is conversation. 
- Lord’s day, June 7.—“ My attention was greatly en- 
raged, and my soul so drawn forth this day, by what 
-heard of the ‘exceeding preciousness of the saving 
trace of God’s Spirit” that it almost overcame my 
iody, in my weak state. I saw that true grace is ex- 
dingly precious indeed; that it is very rare; and 
fat there is but a very small degree of it, even where 
€ reality of it is to be found; at least I saw this to be 
case. 
“Tn the preceding week, I enjoyed some comforta- 
Seasons of meditation. One morning, the cause of 
tod appeared exceedingly precious to me. The Re- 
mer’s kingdom is all that is valuable in the earth, 
nd I could not but lung for the promotion of it in the 
yorld: Isaw also, that this cause is God’s; that he 
as an infinitely greater regard and concern forit than 


‘Could possibly have ; that if I have any true love to 
} fig ir Brainerd. 


» 


314 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 1 


this blessed interest, it is only a drop derived from the 
ocean. Hence I was ready to ‘lift up my head wii 
joy,’ and conclude, ‘ Well, if God’s cause be so des 
and precious to him, he will promote it.” Thus I did 
as it were, rest on God that he would surely promo 
that which was so agreeable to his own will; thoug] 
the time when, must still be left to his sovereign ple 
sure.” 
He was advised by physicians still to continue 
ing, as what would tend, above any other means, t 
prolong his life. He was at a loss, for some time, whic 
way to bend his course ; but finally determined to i 
from hence to Boston ; we having concluded that or 
of our family should go with him, and be helpful 
him in his weak and low state. 
June 9.—“I set out ona journey from Northampt 

to Boston. Travelled slowly, and got some acquai 
ance with a number of ministers on the road. 
“Having now continued to ride for a considera 
time, I felt much better than I had formerly done, at 
found, that in proportion to the prospect Thad of bei 
restored to a state of usefulness, I desired the contin 
ance of life; but now death appeared inconceival 
more desirable to me than a useless life; yet, blesse 
be God, I found my heart, at times, fully resigned ai 
reconciled to this greatest of afflictions, if God saw? 
thus to deal with me. 
June 12.—“I arrived in Boston this day, somewh 
fatigued with my journey. Observed that there is) 
rest but in God; fatigues of body, and anxieties of 
mind, attend us both in town and country : no place 
exempt. ; 
Lord’s day, June 14.—“I enjoyed some enlarg 
ment and sweetness in family prayer, as well as in s 


1747.J 4T BOSTON. 315 


ret exercises; God appeared excellent, his ways full 
f pleasure and peace, and all I wanted was a spirit of 
oly fervency to live to him. 

June 17.—“ This and the two preceding days I spent 
nainly in visiting the ministers of the town, and was 
reated with great respect by them. 

June 18.—“I was taken exceedingly ill, and brought 
0 the gates of death, by the breaking of small ulcers 
a my lungs, as my physician supposed. “In this ex- 
remely weak state I continued for several weeks ; and 
yas frequently reduced so low as to be utterly speech- 
28s, and not so much as to whisper a word. Even af- 
ar I had so-far revived as to walk about the house, and 
7 step out of doors, I was exercised every day with a 
tint turn, which continued usually four or five hours; 
t which times, though I was not so utterly speechless 
ut that I could say yes or no, yet I could not con- 
erse at all, nor speak one sentence, without making 
tops for breath ; and a number of times my friends 
athered round my bed, to see me breathe my last, 
which they expeeted every moment, asI myself also did. 
“How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with 
ard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know. I 
ieve I was somewhat shattered with the violence 
‘the fever at times ; but the third day of my illness; 
d constantly afterward, for four or five weeks to- 
ther, I enjoyed as much serenity of mind, and clear- 
of thought, as perhaps ever in my life. I think 
t my mind never penetrated with so much ease and 
feedom into divine things, as at this time ; and I never 
It so capable of demonstrating the truth of many im- 
i. doctrines of the Gospel asnow. As I saw clearly 
he truth of those great doctrines, which are justly styled 
ne doctrines of grace ; so Isaw with no less clearness; 


316 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [chepil 


mityte God, atid acting aba all selfish views for h is, £ 
TY, ae to be for him, to live to him, and please a 
honor him ia all things; and this from a clear vie} 
_ his infinite excellency and worthiness in himself, te 
loved, adored, worshipped, and served by all int 
gent creatures. Thus I saw, that when a soul loves | 
with a supreme love, he therein acts like the bles: 
God himself, who most justly loves himself in t 
manner. So when God’s interest and his are beee 
one, and he longs that God should be glorified, an 
joices to think that he is unchangeably , possessed 
the highest glory and blessedness, herein also he 
in conformity to God. In like manner, when the s 
is fully resigned to, and rests satisfied and content wi 
the divine will, here it is also conformed to God. 
“ T saw farther, that as this divine temper, by w 
the soul exalts God, and treads self in the dust, 
wrought in the soul by God’s discovering his own g 
rious perfections in the face of Jesus Christ to it by 
special influences of the Holy Spirit, so he cannot 
have regard toit as his own work; and as it is | 
image in his soul, he cannot but ‘akan delight in 
Then I saw again, that if God should slight and reje 
his own moral image, he must needs deny himse 
which he cannot do. And thus! saw the stability a 
infallibility of this region ; and that those who are tt 
ly possessed of it, have the most complete and satis 
ing evidence of their being interested in all the ber 
fits of Christ’s redemption, having their hearts conion 
ed to him; and that these, and these only, are qualifi 
for the employments and entertainments of God’s king 
dom of glory ; as none but these have any relish f 
the business of heaven, which is & ascribe glory 


47.) AP BOSTON- 317 


od, and not to themselves ;.and.that God (though L 
ould speak it with great reverence of his name and 
rfection) cannot, without denying himself} finally: 
st such away. 
“The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire 
hether this was my religion ; and here God was pleas- » 
to help me to the most easy remembrance and criti- ~ 
l review of what had passed in course, of a-religious 
ture, through several of the latter years of my life. 
though I could discover much corruption: attending 
y best duties, many selfish views and carnal ends, 
uch spiritual pride and self-exaltation, and innume- 
ble other evils which compassed me about, yet God 
as pleased, as I was reviewing, quickly to put this 
jestion out of doubt, by showing me that 1 had, from . 
ne to time, acted ~sBs the utmost influence of mere 
Iflove ; that I had longed. to please and glorify him, 
my highest happiness, &c.- This review was, through. 
ace, attended with a present feeling of the same di- 
ne temper.of mind. I felt now pleased to think of 
glory of God, and longed for heaven, as- a state 
herein I might glorify him perfectly, rather than a- 
ace of happiness for myself. This feeling of the love 
God in my heart, which I trust the Spirit of God ex- 
ted in me afresh, was-sufficient to give me a full’sa- 
faction, and make me long, as I had. many times be-, 
re done, to be with Christ. 
As God was pleased to afford me clearness of 
ought, and composure of mind, almost continually 
several weeks, under my great weakness ;.so he 
led me, in.some measure, to-improve my time, as 
Ope, to valuable purposes. I was enabled to write 
umber of important letters to friends in remote 
3; and sometimes I wrote when I was speechless, 
B 2T* 


318 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 
i.e. unable to maintain conversation with any be 
though perhaps I was able to speak a word or 
as to be heard. 

*“ At this season also, while I was confined at Be 
{ read with care and attention some papers of old M 
Shepard, lately come to light, and designed ford 
press; and, as I was desired and greatly urged, 
some corrections where the sense was left dark 
want of a word or two. Beside this, I had ma 
sitants, with whom, when I was able to speak, I al 
conversed of the things of religion, and was pecul 
assisted in distinguishing between the érwe and 
religion of the times. There is scarcely any s 
which has been matter of controversy of late, bat I 

- at one time or other compelled to discuss and show 
opinion respecting it, and that frequently before 
bers of people. Especially, I discourséd repeated]} 
the nature and necessity of that humiliation, self-e 
tiness, or full conviction of a person’s being ull 
undone in himself, which is necessary in orde 
saving faith ; and the extreme difficulty of being brau 
to this, and the great danger there is of persons fal 
up with some self-righteous appearances of it. ' 
danger of this I especially dwelt upon, being persua 
that multitudes perish in this hidden way ; and bee 
*so little is said from most pulpits to discover any 
ger here; sv that persons being never efieetually bro 
to die in themselves, are never truly united to Chr 
and so perish. I also discoursed much on what! 
to be the essence of true religion ; endeavoring pla 
to describe that god-like temper and disposition of § 
and that holy conversation and behavior, which i 
justly claim the honor of having God for its origi 
and patron. I have reason to hope God blessed | 

-* 


1747.] AT BOSTON. 319 


way of discoursing and distinguishing to some, both 
ministers and people ; so that my time was not wholly 
lost. ” 

He was visited while in Boston by many, who showed 
him uncommon respect, and appeared highly pleased 
and entertained with his conversation. Beside being 
honored with the company and respect of ministers of 
he town, he was visited by several ministers from va- 
tious parts of the country. He took all opportunities 
jo discourse on the peculiar nature and distinguishing 
characteristics of true, spiritual, and vital religion ; and 
‘0 bear his testimony against the various false appear- 
ances of it, consisting in, or arising from impressions 
yn the imagination, sudden and supposed immediate 
suggestions of truth not contained in the Scripture, 
ind that faith which consists primarily in a person’s 
is that Christ died for him in particular, &e. 

at he said was, for the most part, heard with un- 
sommon attention and regard; and his discourses and 

sonings appeared manifestly to have great weight 
md influence with many with whom he conversed, 
oth ministers and others. 
The Commissioners in Boston, of the Society in 
ondon for propagating the Gospel in New-England 
md parts adjacent, having received a legacy of the 
ate kev. Dr. Daniel Williams, of London, for thesup- 
rt of two missionaries to the heathen, were pleased, 
hile he was in Boston, to consult him eee a mission 
0 those Indians called the Six Nations, particularly re- 
ecting the qualifications requisite in a missionary to 
hose Indians. They were so satisfied with his senti- 
ments on this head, and had such confidence in his 
aith fulness, his idemuame and discretion in things of 
his nature, that they desired him to undertake to find 


~ 320 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 


and recommend two persons fit to be employed in th 
business ; and very mueh left the matter with him. 

Bratnerp’s restoration from his extremely low st 
in Boston, so as. to go abroad again, and te travel, .wa 
very unexpected to him and his friends. My daughte 
who was with him, writes thus concerning him, in 
letter dated June 23: 

“On Thursday, he was very ill with a violent feve 
and extreme pain in his head and breast, and at tu 
delirious. So-he remained till Saturday evening, whe 
he scemed.to be in the agonies of death; the family v 
up with him till one or two o’clock,. expecting thi 
every hour would be his last. On Sabbath day: he y 
a little revived, his head was better, but he was ve 
full of pain, exceeding sore at his breast,and had gre 
difficulty in breathing. Yesterday he was better. 
night he slept but little. This morning he was m 
worse. Dr. Pynchon says, he has no hope of his life 
nor does he think it likely that he will ever come ot 
of the chamber ; though he says he may be able 
come to Northampton.” : 

In another letter, dated June 29, she says :—“ M 
Brarnerp has not so much pain, nor fever, since I la 
" wrote, as:‘before; yet he is extremely weak and lov 
and very faint, expecting every day will be his las 
He says it is impossible for him to live, for he ha 
hardly vigor enough to draw his breath. I went th 
morning into town, and when I came home, Mr. Bror 
field satd he never expeeted I should see him alive, fi 
he lay two hours, as they thought, dying; one cot 
searcely tell whether he was-alive or not; he was i 
able to speak for some time; but now is much as 
was before. The doctor thinks he will drop away I 
such a turn. Mr. Braiverp says, he never felt an 


: 


1747.] AT BOSTON. 321 


hing so much like dissolution as that he felt to-day ; 
ind says, he never had any conception of its being 
wussible for any creature to be alive, and yet so weak 
is he is from day to day. Dr. Pynchon says, he shouid 
10t be surprised if he should so recover as to live half 
}year; nor would it surprise him if he should die in 
alfa day. Since I began to write, he is not so well, 
laving hada faint tin again: yet he is patient and re- 
igned, having no distressing fears, but the contrary.” 
He expressed himself to one of my neighbors, who 
t that time saw him in Boston, that he was as certain- 
yadead man, as if he was shot through the heart. 
but so it was ordered ’in divine Providence, that the 
rengti of nature held out, and he reviyed, to the as- 
cs of all who knew his case. 
After he began to revive, he was visited by his 
oungest brother, Isrart, a student at Yale College; 
tho having heard of his extreme illness, went from 
rence to Boston, in order to see him; if hie might find 
im alive, which he but. little expected. Bratnerp 
reatly rajoiced to see his brother, especially because 
e had desired an opportunity of some religious con- 
ersation with him before he died. But this meeting 
fas attended with sorrow, as his brother brought to 
im the tidings of his sister Spencer’s death, at Had- 
4m; a sister, between whom and him had long sub- 
sted a peculiarly dear aifection, and much intimacy 
‘Spiritual things, and whose house he used to make 
sown when he went to Haddam, his native place. 
jut he bad a confidence of her being gone to heaven, 
d an expectation of soon meeting her there. His 
rother continued with him till he left the town, ‘and 
me with him from thence to Northampton. Con- 
prning the last Sabbath Brainerd spent in Boston, he 
rites in his diary as follows; 


322 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 


_ Lord's day, July 19.—“ I was just able to atte 
public worship, being carried to the house of God ii 
chaise. Heard Dr. Sewall preach in the forenc 
partook of the Lord’s supper at this time. In this 
dinance I saw astonishing divine wisdom display 
such wisdom as clearly required the tongues of ang 
and glorified saints to celebrate. It seemed to me fi 
Inever should do any thing at adoring the infin 
wisdom.ot God, discovered in the contrivance of ma 
redemption, until I arrived at a world of perfectic 
yet I could not help striving ‘to call upon mys 
and all within me, to bless the name of God.” In 
afternoon, heard Mr. Prince preach. I saw more 
God in the wisdom discovered in the plan of ma 
redemption, than I saw of any other of his perfectio 
through the whole day.” 
The next day, having bid an affectionate: farewell 
his friends, he set out in the’eool of the afternoon, 
his journey to Northampton, attended by his brot 
and my daughter, who went with him to Boston; a 
would have been accompanied out ef the town bj 
number of gentlemen, besides the respected pers 
who. gave him his company for some miles on # 
occasion, as a testimony of their esteem and resp 
had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and shi 
prevented it. : 
July 25.—* I arrived here, at Northampton; hav 
set out from Boston on Monday, about 4 o’clock P.! 
In this journey I usually rode about sixteen miles 
day. Was sometimes extremely tired and faint on th 
road, so that it seemed impossible for me to proce 
any further; at other times I was considerably bett 
and felt some freedom both of body and mind. : 
Lord’s day, July 26.—“ This day I saw clearly thai 


a 


47.) AT NORTHAMPTON. 323 


should never be happy; yea, that God himself could 
t make me happy, unless I could be in a capacity to 
lease and glorify him for ever” Take away this, 
id admit me in all the fine heavens that can be con- 
ived of by men or angels, and I should still be mi- 
rable for ever.” 
Though he had so revived as to be able to travel 
us far, yet he manifested no expectation of recovery. 
€ supposed, as his physician did, that his» being 
ought so near to death at Boston, was owing to the 
eaking of ulcers in his lungs. He told me that he 
d several such ill turns before, only not to so high 
legree, but, as he supposed, owing to the same cause, 
the breaking of ulcers; that he was brought lower 
lower every time; that it appeared to him, that in 
3 last sickness he was brought as low as he could be, 
d yet live; and that he had not the least expectation 
surviving the next return of this breaking of ulcers; 
still appeared perfectly caim in the prospect ot 
ath. 
On Wednesday morning, the week after he came to 
wthampton, his brother Israel left us for New-Haven, 
he took leave of him, never expecting to see him 
in in this world. 
hen Brarwerp came hither, he had so much strength 
to be able, from day to day, to ride out two or three 
and sometimes to pray in the family; but from 
time he gradually decayed, becoming weaker and 
er. As long as he lived, he spoke much of that 
re prosperity of Zion which is so often foretold and 
mised in the Scriptures ; it was a theme upon which 
delighted to dwell; and his mind seemed to be car- 
id forth with earnest concern about it, and intense 
sires that religion might speedily and abundantly re- 


te 


“4 
| e 
324 LIFE OF wnllteeie, ~ [Chay 


vive and fiourish; yea, the nearer death advanced, 
the more the symptoms of its approach increased| 
the more did his mind seem to be taken up with | 
subject. He told me, when near his end, that 
hever, in all his life, had his mind so led forth in 
sires and earnest prayers for the flourishing of Ch 
kingdom on earth, as since he was brought so e x 
ing low at Boston.” He seemed much to wonder | 
there appeared no more of a disposition in minis 
and people to pray for the flourishing of relig 
through the world; that so little a part of their pray 
was generally taken up about it, in their families ; 
elsewhere. Particularly, he several times exp S 
his wonder that there appeared no more forward! 
to comply with the proposal lately made, in a Me 
riai from a number of ministers in Scotland, and § 
over into America, for united extraordinary pra 
amongst Christ’s ministers and people, for the com 
of Christ’s kingdom: and sent it as his dying ady ie 
his own congregation, that they should practise i ag! 
ably to that proposal. 

Though he was constantly exceeding weak, 
there appeared in him a continual care well to impre 
time, and fill it up with something that might be 
fitable, and in some respect for the glory of God o 
good of men; either profitable conversation, or wrili 
letters to absent friends; 01 noti something i in 
diary ; or looking over his former writings, corree 
them, and preparing them to be left in‘the hand 
others at his death ; or giving some directions conee 
ing the future matiagomieul of his peaple; or in sec 
devotions. He seemed’ never to be easy, however 
if he was not doing something for God, or in his 
vice. After he came hither, he wrote a prefice to 


147.4 AT NORTHAMPTON. 325 


ary of Mr. Sueparp, contained in the papers above 
entioned, which has since been published. 
In his diary for Lords day, August 9, he speaks of 
nging desires after death, through a sense of the ex- 
Hency of a state of perfection. In his diary for 
ors day, August 16, he speaks of his having so 
uch refreshment of soul in the house of God, that it 
emed also to refresh his body. And this is not only 
ted in his diary, but was very observable to-others ; 
was apparent, not only that his mind wasexhilarated 
inward consolation, but also that his animal spirits 
bodily strength seemed to be remarkably restored, 
though he had forgot his illness. But this was the 
t time that ever he attended public worship on the 
th. 
On Tuesday morning that week, as I was absent on 
ey, he prayed with my family, but not without 
ach difficulty, for want of bodily strength ; and this 
is the last family prayer that he ever made. He had 
n wont, till now, frequently to ride out, two or three 
les: but this week, on Thursday, was the last time 
ever did so. 
's day, Aug. 23.—“ This morning I was con- 
ly refreshed with the thought, yea, the hope 
expectation of the enlargement of Christ’s king- 
3; and I could not but hope that the time was at 
when Babylon the great would fall, and ‘rise no 
2 This led me to some spiritual meditations, 
were very refreshing to me. I was unable to 
public worship either part of the day ; but God 
pleased to afford me fixedness and satisfaction in 
ine thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when 
go to God, yea, ‘to God my exceeding joy.’ 
28 Brainerd. 


: 


326 LIFE. OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 


When he is such to my soul, O how unspeakably 
lightful is this ! 
“In the week past I had divers turns of inward. 
freshing, though my body was inexpréssibly weak, 
lowed continually with agues and fevers. Sometir 
my soul centered in God, as my only portion; an 
felt that I should be for ever unhappy, if He did | 
reign. I saw the sweetness and happiness of being 
subject, at his disposal. This made all my difficu [ 
quickly vanish.” é' 
Till this week he had been wont to lodge in a re 
above stairs, but he now grewso weak, that he was 
longer able to go up stairs and down. Friday, Au 
28, was the last time he ever went above stairs; hen 
forward he betook himself to a lower room. ; 
‘On Wednesday, Sept. 2, being the day of our pu 
lecture, he seemed to be refreshed with seeing 
neighboring ministers who came hither to the lect 
and expressed a great desire once more to go te 
, iouse of God on that day; and accordingly rode to 
meeting, and attended divine service, while the F 
Mr. Woodbridge, of Hatfield, preached. - He sig nif 
that he supposed it to be the last time he should e 
attend public worship ; as it proved. ‘Indeed it was 
last time that he ever went out of our gate. q 
On the.Saturday evening next following, he was 
expectedly visited by his brother, Mr. Joan Bratne 
who came to see him from New-Jersey. He was m 
refreshed by this unexpected visit, this brother beit 
peculiarly dear tc him; and he seemed to rejoice in é 
devout and-solemn manner, to see him, and to hear 
the comfortable tidings which he brought concernit 
tie state of his dear congregationof Christian Indian 
A circumstance of this visit, of which he was exceed- 


: 
1747. J AT NORTHAMPTON. 327 


ingly glad, was, that his brother brought him some of 
his private writings from: New-Jersey, and particularly 
his diary, which he had kept for many years past. 
| Lord's day, Sept. 6.—“ I began to read some of my 
private writings which my brother brought me, and 
was considerably refreshed with what I found in them. 
_ Sept. 7.—“ I proceeded. further in reading my old 
ivate writings, and found that they had the same 
upon me as before. I could not but rejoice and 
| God for what passed long ago, which, without 
yriting, had been entirely lost. 
' “ This evening, when I was in great distress of body, 

y soul longed that God showld be glorified. O that 
foul for ever live to God! The day, I trust, is at 

d, the perfect day. O the day of deliverance from 
sin! 

Lords day, Sept. 13.—* I was much refreshed and 
sngaged in meditation and writing, and found a heart 
to.act for God. My spirits. were refreshed, and sd 

1 delighted to do something for God.” 

:. the evening of that Lord’s day, his feet heean 
0 swell ; dnd thenceforward swelled more and more: 
h symptom of his dissolution coming on. The next 
lay, his brother John left him, being obliged to return 
9 New-Jersey on some business of great importance 
and necessity ; intending to return again with all pos- 
sible speed, hoping to see his brother yet once more in 
he land of the living. 
| Brarnerp having now, with much deliberation, con- 
sidered the subject referred to him by the commission- 
ers of the Society for propagating the Gospel in New- 
ingland and parts adjacent, wrote them about this 
time, recommending two young gentlemen of his ac- 

laintance, Mr. Elihu Spencer, of East Haddam, and Mr. 


328 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. EX 


Job Strong, of Northampton, as suitable missionari 
to the Six Nations. The commissioners, on the rece 
of this letter, cheerfully and unanimously agreed to ( 
cept of and employ the persons whom he had recon 
mended. 
On Wednesday, Sept. 16, he wrote to some chari 
gentlemen in Boston in behalf of the Indian scho 
showing the need of anotherschoolmaster, or some pe 
son to assist the schoolmaster in instructing the Ind) 
children. These gentlemen, on the receipt of his lett 
had a meeting, and agreed with great cheerfulness 
give £200 (in bills of the old tenor) for the suppe 
another schoolmaster ; and desired the Rev. Mr. Pei 
berton, of New-York, (who was then at Boston, and w 
also at their desire, present at the meeting,) as soor 
possible to procure a suitable person for that servi 
and also agreed, in accordance with an intimation f 
Brarerp, to allow £75 to defray some special char 
which were requisite to encourage the mission to 
Six Nations. fl 
Brarnerp spent himself much in writing a let 
being exceedingly weak ; but it seemed to ch 
his satisfaction that he had been enabled to doi it, he 
ing that it was something done for God, and wi 
might be for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom 
glory. In writing the last of these’ letters, he 
obliged to use the hand of another. 
On Thursday of this week, (Sept. £7,) when hel v 
out of his lodging-room for the last time, he was ag 
visited by his brother IsrarL, who continued with him 
tillhis death. On that evening he was taken with son 
thing of a diarrhea, which he looked upon as anotht 
sign ofhis approaching death ; whereupon he express i 
himself thus: “Oh, the glorious time is now coming 


1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 329 


I have longed to serve God perfectly: now God will 
gratify those desires!” And from time to time, at the 
several steps and new symptoms of the sensible ap- 
proach of his dissolution, he was so far from being 
sunk or depressed in spirits, that he seemed to be anz- 
mated and made more cheerful, as being glad at the 
appearance of death’s approach. He often used the 
£pithet glorious, when speaking of the day of his death. 
galling it that glorious-day. And as he saw his disso- 
lution gradually approaching, he talked much about it ; 
and with perfect calmness spoke of a future state. He 
also settled all his affairs, giving directions very parti- 
cularly and minutely concerning what he would have 
done in one respect and another after his decease. And 
the nearer death approached, .the more desirous he 
seemed tobe todepart. He several times spoke of the 
different kinds of willingness to die; and represented 
it as an ignoble, mean kind, to be willing to leave the 
body only to get rid of pain; or to go to heaven only 
to get honor and advancement there. 
_ Sept. 19.—“ Near night, while I attempted to walk a 
little, my thoughts turned thus: ‘ How infinitely sweet 
to love God, and be all for him’? Upon which it was 
suggested to me, ‘ You are not an angel, not lively and 
lactive” To which my whole soul immediately replied, 
‘1 as sincerely desire to love and glorify God as any 
angel in heaven.’ Upon which it was suggested again, 
ki But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.’ Hereupon in- 
/stantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ’s righte- 
/ousness, in which I could not but exult and triumph; 
|and I viewed the infinite excellency of God, and my 
}soul even broke with longings that God should be 
| glorified. I thought of dignity in heaven, but instantly 
| the thought returned, ‘Ido not go to heaven to get 


ell iy 


330 LIFE OF BRAINERD. LChap. IX. 


honor, but to give all possible glory and praise.’ 
how I longed that God should be glorified on ea 
also! OIwas made for eternity, if God might! 
glorified! Bodily pains I cared not for; though I wi 
then in extremity, I never felt easier. I felt willing 
glorify God in that state of bodily distress as long as 
he pleased I should continue in it. The grave appear 
ed really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bo 
in it; but O that God might be glorified! this was tl 
- burden of all my ery. OI knew that I should be a 
tive as an angel in heaven, and that I should be stri 
ped of my filthy garments! so that there was no ¢ 
jection. But, O to love and praise God more, to plea 
him for ever! this my soul panted after, and even no’ 
pants for, while I write. Oh that God might be glor 
fied in the whole earth! ‘ Lord let thy kingdom com 
I longed for a spirit of preaching to descend and re 
on ministers, that they might address the conscience 
of men with closeness and power. I saw that Ge 
had the residue of the Spirit, and my soul longed 
it should be ‘ poured from on high. I could not b 
plead with God for my dear congregation, that he 
would preserve it, and not suffer his great name to lo: 
its glory in that work ; my soul still longing that Ge 
might be glorified.” 
The extraordinary frame he was in that evening 
could not be hid. “ His mouth spake out of the abun 
dance of his heart,” expressing in a very affecting ma 
ner much the same things as are written in his diary 
Among very many other extraordinary expressions 
which he then uttered, were such as these: “My 
heaven is to please God, and glorify him, and to giveali” 
to him, and to be wholly devoted to his glory ; that : 
te heaven I long for; that is my religion, and that is 


ni 


1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 331] 


my happiness, and always was, ever since I suppose [ 
had any true religion; and all those that are of that 
religion shall meet me in heaven. I do not go to hea- 
ven to be advanced, but to give honor to God. It isno 
matter where I shall be stationed in heaven, whether I 
have a high or low seat there; but to love, ud please, 
and glorify God is all. Had I a thousand souls, if they 
‘were worth any thing, I would give them all to God; 
but I have nothing to give when all is done. It is itm 
possible for any rational creature to be happy without 
: acting all for God ; God himself could not make him 
happy any other way. I long to be in heaven, prais- 
ing and glorifying God with the holy angels; all my 
desire is to glorify God. My heart goes out to the bu- 
tying place ; it seems to me a desirable place: but O to 
glorify God ! that is it; thatis above all. It isa great 
comfort to me to think that I have done a little for God 
in the world; Oh! it is but a very small matter, yet I 
have done a little, and I lament that I have not done 
more for him. There is nothing in the world worth 
living for, but doing good, and finishing God’s work, 
doing the work that Christ did. I see nothing élse 
in the world that can yield any satisfaction besides 
living to God, pleasing him, and doing his whole 
will. My greatest joy and comfort has been to-do 
something for promoting the interest of religion and 
the souls of particular persons; and now, in my ill- 
mess, while I am full of pain and distress from day 
to day, all the comfort I have is in being able to do 
some little service for God, either by something I say, 
or by writing, or in some other way.” 
| He intermingled with these, and other like expres- 
sions, many pathetical counsels to those who were 
about him, particularly to my children and servants, 


i 
} oa 


| 


332 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. rool 


He applied nimself to some of my younger children 
at this time; calling them to him, and speaking to 
them one by one; setting before them, in a very plain 
manner, the nature and essence of true piety, and i 
great importance and necessity ; earnestly warning 
them not to rest in any thing short of a true and 
thorough change of heart, and a life devoted to : 
He counselled them not to be slack in the great busi-« 
ness of religion, nor in the least to delay it; enforcin| 
his counsels with this, that his words were the word 
of a dying man. Said he, “I shall die here, and her 
I shall be buried, and here you will see my grave, é 
I wish you to remember what I have said to you. 
am going into eternity; and it is sweet for me 
think of eternity ; the endlessness of it makes it sweet 
but O what shall I say of the eternity of the wicked? 
I cannot mention it, nor think of it; the thought is to 
dreadful. When you see my grave, then remember 
what I said to you while I was alive; then think how 
the man who lies in that grave counselled and warnet 
you to prepare for death.” 
His body seemed to be marvellously strengthened 
through the inward vigor and refreshment of his mind 
so that, although before he was so weak that he coul 
hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his mo: 
affecting and profitable discourse to us for more than 
an hour, with scarce any intermission ; and said of 
when he had done, “it was the last sermon that eve 
he should preach.” This extraordinary frame of mi ad 
pein air the next day, of which he speaks in his 
iary as follows: 
per day, Sept. 20.— Was still in a sweet and 
comfortable frame, and was again melted with desires 
$ 


1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. ‘B38 


that God might be glorified, and with longings to love 
and live to him. Longed for the influences of the 
divine Spirit to descend on ministers in an especial 
manner. And O-I longed to be with God, to behold 
his glory, and to bow in his presence.” 

It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this 
day and the evening preceding, that his mind at this 
time was much impressed with a sense of the impor- 
tafice of the work of the ministry, and the need of the 
grace of God, and his special spiritual assistance in 
this work ; it also appeared in what he expressed in 
conversation, particularly in his discourse to his bro- 
ther Israel, who was then a member of Yale College 
at New-Haven, prosecuting his studies for the work of 
the ministry.* He now, and from time to time, in this 
his dying state, recommended to his brother a life of 
self-denial, of weanedness from the world and devoted- 
ness to God, and an earnest endeavor to obtain much 
of the grace of God’s Spirit, and God’s gracious in- 

uences on his heart ; representing the great need in 
which ministers stand of them, and the unspeakable 
denefit of them, from his cwn experience. Among 
many other expressions, he said thus: “When minis- 
bl feel these special gracious influences on their 
nearts, it wonderfully assists them to come at the con- 
epee of men, and as it were to handle them with 
lands ; whereas, without them, whatever reason and 


| * This brother was ingenious, serious, studious, and hope- 
ally pious; there appeared in him many qualities giving hope 
/f his being agreat blessing in hisday. But it pleased God, 
joon after the death of his brother, to take him away also. He 
lied that winter at New-Haven, January 6, 1748, of a nervous 
ever, after about a fortnight’s illness. 

H 


334 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 0 


oratory we make use of, we do but make use of stumps 
instead of hands.” 

Sept. 21.—“ I began to correct a little volume of m 
private writings. God, I believe, remarkably help 
me in it; my strength was surprisingly lengthene 
out, my thoughts were quick and lively, and my so) 
refreshed, hoping it might be a work for God. O 
good, how sweet it is to labor for God! 

Sept. 22.—“ Was again employed in reading 4 
correcting, and had the same success as the day b 
fore. I was exceeding weak, but it seemed to refre 
my soul thus to spend time. S 

Sept. 23.—“I finished my corrections of the lit 
piece before mentioned, and felt uncommonly peac 
ful; it seemed as if I had now done all my work1 
this world, and stood ready for my call to a bette 
As long as I see any thing to be done for God, life 
worth having; but O how vain and unworthy it is’ 
live for any lower end! This day I indited a letter, 
think, of great importance, to the Rev. Mr. Byram, 
New-Jersey. Oh that God would bless and succeed th 
letter, which was written for the benefit of his church 
Oh that God would ‘purify the sons of Levi,’ that h 
glory may beadvanced! This night I endured a drea 
ful turn, wherein my life was expected scarce an ho 
or minute. But, blessed be God, I have enjoyed ce 
siderable sweetness in divine things this week, both! 
night and day. 

Sept. 24.—“ My strength began to fail exceedingl} 
which looked, further, as if I had done all my work 


*It was concerning the qualifications of ministers, and the 
sxamination and licensing of candidates for the work of t 
ministry. 


1747.5 AT NORTHAMPTON. 335 


however, I had strength to fold and superscribe my 
letter. About two I went to bed, being weak and much 
disordered, and lay in a burning fever till night, with- 
ut any proper rest. In the evening I got up, having 
ain down in some of my clothes ; but was in the great- 
sst distress, having an uncommon kind of hiccough; . 
which either strangled me, or threw me into a strain- 
ng to vomit, accompanied with other,griping pains. 
) the distress of this evening! I had little expectation 
f living the night through, nor indeed had any about 
me; and I longed for the finishing moment! I was 
ybliged to repair to bed by six o’clock; and through 
mercy enjoyed some rest; but was grievously dis- 
ressed at turns with the hiccough. My soul breathed 
ifter God, ‘ When shall I come to God, even to God, 
ny exceeding joy ? Oh for his blessed likeness! 

’ Sept. 25.—“ I was unspeakably weak, and little bet- 
er than speechless all the day ; however, I was able to 
vrite a little, and some part of the day was comfort- 
ble. Oit refreshed my soul to think of former things, 
f desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living to 
im! O, blessed God, I am speedily coming to thee, 
ae Hasten the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed 
ill. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.f 

| Sept. 26.—“ I felt the sweetness of divine things this 
66x; and had the consolation of a consciousness 
hat I was doing something for God. 

| Lord’s day, Sept. 27.—“ This was a very comfortable 
ay to my soul; I think, lawoke with God. I was en- 
Woled to lift up my soul to God, early this morning ; 


| + This was the last time that ever he wrote in his diary with 
is own hand; though itis continued a little farther, in a broken 
Janner; written by his brother Israel, but indited by his mouth, 
p this his weak and dying state. 


336 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. | 


and while I had little bodily strength, I found freedo 

to lift up-my heart to God for myself and others. A 
terward, was pleased with the thoughts of speedil 
entering into the unseen world.” 

He felt this morning an unusual appetite for foe 

. with which his mind seemed to be exhilarated, lookir 
on itasasign of the very near approach of death. / 
this time he also said, “I was born oa a Sabbath-dai 
andI have reason to think I was new-bor on a Sabbati 
day; and I hope I shall die on this Sabbath-day. 
shall look upon it as a favor, if it may be the will @ 
God that it should be so: I long for thetime. O, wh 
is his chariot so long in coming ? why tarry the whee 
of his chariot ? I am very willing to part with all: 
am willing to part with my dear brother John, ant 
never to see him again, to go to be forever with th 
Lord.* O, when I go there, how will God’s dear chure 
on earth be upon my mind !” 

Afterward, the same morning, béing asked how h 
did, he answered, “I am almost in eternity; 1 long 
be there. My rer is done; I have done with all m 
friends: all the world is nothing to me. I long to b 
in heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holj 
angels. All my desire is to glorify God.” 

During the whole of these last two weeks of his. 
he seeined to continue in this frame of heart, as having 
finished his work, and done with all things here belo} 
He had now nothing to do but to die, and to abide in an 


* He had, before this, expressed a desire, if it might be ; 1€ 
will of God, to live till his brother returned from New-Jerse’ 
who, when he went away, intended, if possible, to perform his 
journey, and return in a fortnight; hoping once more to meet 
his brother in the land of the living. The fortnight was “i 
nearly expired. 


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1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 337 


earnest desire and expectation of the happy moment, 
when his soul should take its flight to a state of perfect ° 
heliness, in which he should be found perfectly glori- 
fying and enjoying God. He said, “the consideration 
of the day of death, and the day of judgment, had a long 
time been peculiarly sweet to him.” From time to 
time he spake of his being willing to leave the body 
and the world immediately—that day, that night, that 
moment—if it was the will of God. He also was much 
engaged in expressing his longings that the Church of 
Christ on earth might flourish, and Christ’s kingdom 
here be advanced, notwithstanding he was about to 
leave the earth, a shouid not with his eyes behold 
the desirable event, nor be instrumental in promoting 
it. He said to me, one morning, as I came into his 
room, “My thoughts have been employed on the old 
dear theme, the prosperity of God’s church on earth. 
As I waked out of sleep, I was led to cry for the pour- 
ing out of God’s Spirit, and the advancement of Christ’s 

ingdom, for which the Redeemer did and suffered so 

uch. It is that especially which makes me long for 
it” He expressed much hope that a glorious advance- 
ment of Christ’s kingdom was near at hand. 

He once told me, that “he had formerly longed for 
he outpouring of the Spirit of God, and the glorious 
imes of the church, and hoped they were coming ; and 
that he should have been willing to live to promote re- 
igion at that time if that had been the will of God: but,” 
ays he, “Iam willing it should beasit is; I wouldnot 
have the choice to make for myself, for ten thousand 
worlds.” He expressed on his death-bed a full persua- 
sion that he should in heaven see the prosperity of the 


church on earth, and should rejoice with Christ there. 
29 Brainerd. 


338 © LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. IX 


in; and the consideration of it seemed to be highly 
‘pleasing and satisfying to his mind. * 
He also still dwelt much on the great importance of 
the work of gospel ministers, and expressed his long- 
ings that they might be filled with the Spirit of God, 
He manifested much desire to see some of the neigh- 
boring ministers with whom he had some acquain 
ance, and of whose sincere friendship he was confid 
that he might converse freely with them on that s 
ject before he died. And it so happened, that he had 
opportunity with some of them according to his desire 
Another thing that lay much on his heart from time 
to time, in these near approaches of death, was the 
spiritual prosperity of his own congregation of Chris- 
tian Indians in New-Jersey ; when he spake of them, 
it was with peculiar tenderness, so that his spee I 
‘would be presently interrupted and drowned will 
tears. 
He also expressed much satisfaction in the disposal 
of Providence with regard to the circumstances of 
his death ; particularly that God had before his death 
given him an opportunity in Boston, with so many 
considerable persons, ministers and others, to give if 
his testimony for God against false religion, and many 
mistakes that lead to it and promote it. He wasmuch 
. pleased that he had had an opportunity there to lay 
before pious and charitable gentlemen the state of th : 
Indians, and their necessities, to so good effect ; and that 
God had since enabled him to write to them furthe P 
concerning these affairs ; and to write other lette of 
importance, which he hoped might be of good influ- 
ence with regard to the state of religion among the 
Indians, and elsewhere, after his death. He expressed 
great thankfulness tv God for his merey in these things. 


1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 339 


He also mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful 
circumstance of his death, that he should die here. 
Speaking of these things, he said, “God had granted 
him all his desire;” and signified that now he couid 
joyfully leave the world. 
Sept. 28,—“I was able to read and make some few 
corrections in my private writings, but found I could 

‘not write as I had done; I found myself sensibly de- 
clined in all respects. It has been only from a little 

‘while before noon till about one or two o’clock, that 1 

have been able to do any thingfor some time past; yet 
it refreshed my heart that I could do any thing, either 

public or private, that I hoped was for God.” . 

_ This evening he was supposed to be dying, both by 
himself and by those about him. He seemed glad at 
the appearanve of the near approach of death. He was 

almost speechless, but his lips appeared to move, and 
one that sat very near him heard him utter such ex- 

pressions as these: “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. 

_Owhy is his chariot so long in coming?” After he re- 

_vived, he blamed himself for having been too eager to 

be gone. And in expressing what was the frame of his 

| mind at that time, he said he then found an inexpres- 
| sibly sweet love to those whom he looked upon as be- 
| longing to Christ, beyond almost all that ever he felt 
| before ; so that it seemed, to use his own words, “like 

_ alittle piece of heaven to have one of them near him.” ° 

| And being asked whether heheard the prayer that was, 

| at his desire, made with him, be said, “ Yes, he heard 

/ every word, and had an uncommon sense of the things 

_ that were uttered in that prayer, and that every word 

| reached his heart.” 

| Onthe evening of Tuesday, Sept. 29, as he lay on his 

| bed, he seemed to be in an extraordinary frame; his 


| 


| 


et a 
340 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IX 


mind greatly engaged in sweet meditations conce 

the prosperity of Zion. There being present here, at 
that time, two young gentlemen of his acquaintance, 
who were candidates for the ministry, he desired us 
all to unite in singing a psalm on that subject, —- 
Zion’s prosperity. Andon his desire we sung a 

of the 102d psalm. This seemed much to refresh and 
revive him, and gave him new strength; so that though 
before, he could scarcely speak at all, now he proceed- 
ed, with some freedom of speech, to give his dying 

counsels to these young gentlemen relative to their pr } 
paration for the great work of the ministry; and in 
particular, earnestly recommended to them freque 
secret fasting and prayer; and enforced his counse 
with regard to this, from his own experience of {] 
great comfort and benefit of it; “which,” said he, “] 
should not mention, were it not that lam a dying per 
son.” After he had finished his counsel, he made 
prayer in the audience of us all; wherein, besides pray 
ing for this family, for his brethren, and those candidates 
for the ministry, and for his own congregation, he ear 
nestly prayed for the reviving and flourishing of reli 
gion in the world.—Till now, he had every day sat up 
part of the day ; but after this he never rose from his bed, 

Sept. 30.—“I was obliged to keep my bed the whole 
day, through weakness. However, redeemed a little 
time, and, with the help of-my brother, read and cor 
rected about a dozen pages in my manuscript, giving 
an account of my conversion. 

Oct. 1—“T endeayored again to do something J 
way of writing, but | soon found my powers of body 
and mind utterly fail. Felt not so sweetly as.when I 
was able to do something which I hoped would do some 
good. In the evening, was discomposed and wholly 


1747] .AT NORTHAMPTON. 341 


‘delirious; but it was not long before God was pleased 
to give me some sleep, and fully compose my mind.* 
O blessed be God for his great goodness to me, since I 
was so low at Mr. Bloomfield’s on Thursday, June 18. 
He has, except those few minutes, given me the clear 
exercise of my reason, and enabled me to labor much 
for him in things both of a public and private nature, 
and perhaps to do more good than I should have dane 
if I had been well; besides the comfortable influences 
of his’ blessed Bainit, with which he has been pleased 
to refresh my soul. May his name have all the glory 
for ever and ever. Amen. 

Oct. 2.—My soul was this day, at turns, sweetly 
set on God: I longed to be with him, that I might be- 
hold his glory. I felt sweetly disposed to commit all 
to him, even my dearest friends, my dearest flock, my 
absent brother, and all my concerns for time and eter- 
nity. O that his kingdom might come in the world; 
that they might all love and glorify him for what he 
is in himself; and that the blessed Redeemer might 
‘see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied? O 
come, Lord Jesus, come quickly! Amen.” 
| Here ends his diary. These are the last words which 
are written in it, either by his own hand, or by any 
other. from his ruth : 

The next evening we very much expected his bro- 
ther John from New-J ersey ; it being about a week after 
the time that he proposed for his return, when he went 
away. Theugh our expectations were still disappoint- 
-ed, yet Bratnerp seemed to continue unmoved, in the 
‘same calm and peaceful frame which he had before 


| *From this time forward he had the free use of his reason 
til the day before his death; except that at some times he ap- 
| peared a little lost for a moment when first waking out of ees 


B 29* 


342 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 


manifested; as having resigned all to God, and hay 
done with his friends, and with all things here bele 

On-the morning of the next day, being Lord’s d 
Oct. 4, as my daughter Jerusha, who chiefly attende 
him, came into the room, he looked on her very plea 
santly, and said, “ Dear Jerusha, are you willing to pe 
with me ?”—“I am quite willing to part with you 
am willing to part with all my friends: Tam willing 
part with my dear brother John, although I love hi 
the best of any creature living: I have committed hi 
and all my friends to God, and can leave them wi 
God. Though, if I thought I should not see you, an 
be happy with you in another world, I could not be 
to part with you. But we shall spend an happy et 
nity together !"* In the evening, as one came into 
room with a Bible in her hand, he expressed himse 
thus: “O that dear book—that lovely book! I sk 
soon see it opened! The mysteries that are in it, al 


* In about four months, it pleased a holy and sovereign G 
to take away this my dear child by death, on the 14th of y 
ruary, after a short illness of five days, in the eighteenth 
of her age. She was a person of much the same spirit Wi 
Bratnerp. She had constantly taken care of, and attend 
him in his sickness, for nineteen weeks before his death; de 
ting herself to him with great delight, because she looked | 
him as an eminent servant of Jesus Christ. In this time 
had much conversation with her on the things of religion; 
in his dying state, often expressed to us, her parents, his g re 
satisfaction concerning her true piety, and his ennfidence t 
he sbould meet her in heaven. She had manifested a heart 
commonly devoted to God; and said on her death-bed, 
‘she had seen no time for several years, when she desired! 
live one minute Jonger, for the sake of any other good in lif 
but doing good, living to God, and doing what might be for 


glory.” eS 


1747.) A’? NORTHAMPTON. 343 


the mysteries of God’s providence, will be all un- 
folded !” 

On Tuesday, Oct. 6, he lay for a considerable time 
as if he were dying; at which time he was heard to 
utter, in broken whispers, such expressions as these: 
“He will come, he will not tarry. I shall soon be in 
glory. I shall soon glorify God with the angels.”—But 
after some time he revived. 

_ The next day, Wednesday, Oct. 7, his brother John 
arrived from New-Jersey ; where he had been detained 
much longer than he intended, by a mortal sickness 
prevailing among the christian Indians, and by some 
other circumstances that made his stay with them ne- 
cessary. Brainero was affected and refreshed with 
seeing him, and appeared fully satisfied with the rea- 
sons of his delay; seeing the interest of religion and 
jthe souls of his people required it. 
_ The next day, Thursday, Oct. 8, he was in great dis- 
‘tress and agonies of body; and for the greater part of 
the day was much disordered as to the exercise of his 
‘Teason. In the evening he was composed, and had 
the use of his reason; but the pain of his body con- 
oe and increased. He told me that it was impos- 
sible for any one to conceive of the distress he felt in 
\his breast. He manifested muck concern lest he should 
dishonor God by impatience under his extreme agony; 
| which was such, that he said the thought of enduring 
jit one moment longer was almost insupportable. He 
) desired that others would be much in lifting up their 
hearts continually to God for hima, that God would sup- 
| port him, and give him patience. He signified that he 
| expected to die that night; but seemed to fear a longer 
| delay ; and the disposition of his mind with regard to 
| death, appeared still the same that it had been all along. 


l 


i 
iy 


a 


344 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | Chap. 


And notwithstanding his bodily agonies, yet the inte- 
rest of Zion lay still with great weight on his mir 
On that evening he had considerable discourse wit 
_the Rev. Mr. Billing, one of the neighboring minister 
concerning the great importance of the work of th 
ministry. Afterward, late in the night, he had mue 
very proper and profitable discourse with his bro h 
John, concerning his congregation in New-Jersey, at 
the interest of religion among the Indians. In th 
latter part of the night his bodily distress seemed { 
rise to a greater height than ever. Toward day h 
eyes became fixed; and he’ continued lying immoy, 
ble till about six o’clock on Friday, Oct. 9, 1747, whi 
his soul, as we may well conclude, was received by h 
dear Lord and Master into that state of perfection 
holiness, and fruition of God, for which he had so o 
and so ardently longed; and was welcomed by the gl 
rious assembly in the upper world, as one peculiarl 
fitted to join them in their blessed employ and enj 
ment. , 

Much respect was shown to his memory at his 
ral; which was on the Monday following, after a sel 
mon preached on that solemn occasion. His funer 
was attended by eight of the neighboring ministers, 
and a great concourse of people. 


‘ 

: ’ 
CHAPTER &. : 
Reflections on the preceding Memoirs. a 
REFLECTION 1. +@ 


Tn the life of Bratnerp we may see, as I apprehend, 
the nature of true religion, and the manner of its opé 
7 * 


Chap. X.] REFLECTIONS. 345 


ration, When exemplified in a high degree and in pow- 
erful exercise. Particularly it may be worthy to be 
observed : 

1. How greatly Brainerp’s religion differed from 
that of some pretenders to the experience of a clear 
ork of saving conversion wrought on their hearts; 
who, depending and living on that, settle in a cold, 
areless, and carnal frame of mind, ee ina neglect of 
1 thorough, earnest religion, in the stated practice of 
t. Although his convictions and conversion Were in 
ul respects exceedingly clear, and very remarkable ; 
ret how far was he from acting as though he thought 
ie had got through his work,» when once he had ob- 
ained comfort, and satisfaction of his interest in Christ 
aud a title to ihiews en! On the contrary, that work 
n his heart, by which he was brought to this, was 
vith him evidently but the bezinning of his work; his 
tst entering on the great business of religion, and the 
ervice of God; his first setting out in his race. His 
york was not finished, nor his race ended, till life was 
nded. 

_As his conversion was not the end of his work, or 
the course of his diligence and strivings in religion, 
D neither was it the end of the work of the Spirit of 
don his heart. On the contrary, it was the first 
wning of the light, which thenceforth increased more 
fad more; the beginning of his holy affections, his 
ai for sin, his love to God, his rejoicing in Jesus 
hrist, his longing after holiness. There are many, 
ho, after the efféct of novelty is over, soon find their 
tuation and feelings very much the same as before 
heir supposed conversion, with respect to any pre- 
nt thirstings for God, or ardent out-goings of their 
yuls after divine aijents. Now and then, indeed, they 


: 7 


346 LIFE OF PRAINERD. [Chap. 3 


have a comfortable reflection on the past, and 
somewhat affected with the remembrance, and so 
easy, thinking that it is safe ; and they doubt not 
they shall go to heaven when they die. Far otherw 
was it with Bratnerv. His experiences, instead 
dying away, were evidently of an increasing nat 
His first love, and other holy affections, even at 
beginning, were very great; but, after the lapse } 
mionths and years, became much greater and me 
remarfkable. { 
2. His religion apparently and greatly differed fro 
that of many high pretenders to religion, who are ff 
quently actuated by vehement emotions of mind, 
are carried on ina course of sudden and strong U 
pnessions, and supposed high illuminations and imi 
diate discoveries ; and at the same time are persons 
a virulent “ zeal, not according to knowledge.” If ’ 
look through the whole series of his experience, fre 
his conversion to his death, we shall find none of tt 
kind—no imaginary sight of Christ hanging on t 
cross with his blood streaming from his wounds 3 
with a countenance smiling on him; or arms open 
embrace him: no sight of the book of life opened, w 
his name written in it; no hearing God or Christ spet 
ing to him; nor any sudden suggestions of words 
sentences, either of Scripture or any other, as then 
mediately spoken or sent to him; no new revelati 
no sudden strong suggestions of secret facts. No 
I find any one instance in all the records which hel 
left of his own life, from beginning to end, of joy’ 
cited from a supposed immediate witness of the Spit 
or inward immediate suggestion, that his state Y 
surely good. But the way in which he was satisfied 
his own good estate, even to the entire abolishing 


hap, X.] REFLECTIONS, 347 


ear, was by feeling within himself the lively actings 
fa holy temper and heavenly disposition, the vigorous 
xercises of that divine “love which casteth out fear.” 
3. Bratero’s religion was not selfish and mercena- 
y; his love to God was primarily and principally for 
1e supreme excellency of his own nature, and not 
uilt on a preconceived notion that God loved him, 
ad received him into favor, and had done great things 
© him,or promised great things to him. His joy was 
'y in God, and not in himself. We see by his diary 
w, from time to time, through the course of his life, 
is soul was filled with ineffable sweetness and com- 
wt. The affecting considerations and lively ideas of 
ol infinite glory, his unchangeable blessedness, his 
vereignty and universal dominion ; together with the 
veet exercises of love to God, giving himself up to 
im, abasing himself before him, denying himself for 
im, depending upon him, acting for his glory, diligent- 
‘serving him; and the pleasing prospects or hopes he 
ad of the future advancement of the kingdom of Christ, 
ere the grounds of his strong and abiding consolation. 
It appears plainly and abundantly all along, from his 
myersion to his death, that the sort of good which 
jas the great object of the new relish and appetite 
ven him in conversion, and thenceforward main- 
ined and increased in his heart, was HOLINESS, con- 
tmity to God, living to God, and glorifying him, 
is was what drew his heart; this was the centre of 
ssoul; this was the ocean to-which all the streams 
| his religious affections tended; this was the object 
ich engaged his eager thirsting desires and earnest 
rsuits. He knew no true excellency or happiness 
t this; this was what he longed for most vehemently 
ad constantly on earth; and this was with him the 


Pe 
348 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. X 


beauty and blessedness of heaven. This made hims 
much and so often long for that world of glory. 
was to be perfectly holy, and perfectly exercised 
the holy employments of heaven ; and thus “ to glorifi 
God and enjoy him for ever.” i 
His religious illuminations, affections, and comfor 
seemed, to a great degree, to be attended with evan 
ical humiliation ; consisting in a sense of his ow 
utter insufficiency, despicableness, and odiousnei 
with an answerable disposition and frame of hee 
How deeply affected was he almost continually 1 
his great defects in religion; with his vast dista 
from that spirituality and holy frame of mind that 
eame him; with his ignorance, pride, deadness, unst 
diness, barrenness! He was not only affected with 
remembrance of his former sinfulness before his ¢ 
version, but with the sense of his present vileness ; 
pollution. He was not only disposed to think mez 
of himself as before God, and in comparison of hi 
but among men, and as compared with them. Hey 
apt to think other saints better than himself; yee 
look on himself as the meanest and least of sail 
yea, very often, as the vilest and worst of manki 
And notwithstanding his great attainments'in spiral 
knowledge, yet we find there is scarcely any th 
with a sense of which he is more frequently affeci 
and abased, than his ignorance. a 
How eminently did he appear to be of a meek am 
quiet spirit, resembling the lamb-like, dove-like spit 
of Jesus Christ! How full of love, meekness, quie 
ness, forgiveness, and mercy! His love was not merel 
a fondness and 2 zeal for a party, but an universal ber 
volences-very often exercised in the most sensible ai 
ardent love to his greatest oppogers and enemies, 


Was LS 


Chap. X.] REFLECTIONS. 849 


Of how soft and tender a spirit was he! How far 
were his experiences, hopes, and joys, from a tendency 
finally to stupify and harden him, to lessen convictions 
and tenderness of conscience, to cause him to be less 
affeeted with present and past sins, and less conscien- 
tious with respect to future sins! How far were they 
from making him more easy in neglect of duties which 
are troublesome and inconvenient, more’slow and par- 
tial in complying with difficult commands, less apt to 
be alarmed at the appearance of his own defects and 
transgressions, more easily induced.to a compliance 
with carnal appetites! On the contrary, how tender 
‘was his conscience! how apt was his heart to smite 
him! how easily and greatly was he alarmed at the 
appearance of moral evil! how great and constant was 
his jealousy over his own heart! how strict his care 
and watchfulness against sin! how deep and sensible 
were the wounds that sin made in his conscience! 
Those evils which are generally accounted small, were 
almost an insupportable burden to him; such as his 
inward deficiencies, his having no more love to God, 
finding within himself any slackness or dullness in re- 
ligion, any unsteadiness or wandering frame of mind. 
| How did the consideration of such things as these op- 
_ and abase him, and fill him with inward shame 
and confusion! His love and hope, though they were 
Such as cast out a servile fear of hell, yet were attended 
with, and abundantly cherished and promoted a reve- 
[Fential filial fear of God, a dread of sin and of God’s 
}holy displeasure. His joy seemed truly to be a rejoi- 
| cing with trembling. His assurance and comfort dif- 
fered greatly from a false enthusiastic confidence and 
| joy. in that it promoted and maintained mourning for 


} sin. T£e did not, after he received comfort and full sa- 
30 Brainerd, 


350 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. X. 
e * 


tisfaction of the safety of his state, forget his past sins, 
whether committed before or after his conversion; but 
the remembrance of them, from time to time, revived 
tu his heart with renewed grief. That passage was” 
evidently fulfilled in him, “ ‘Phat thou mayest remem~ 
ber, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any 
more, because of thy shame; when I am pacified to- 
ward thee for all that thou hast done.” Ezek. 16; 63. ~ 

His religious affections and joys were not like those 
of some, who have rapture and mighty emotions from 
time to time in company; but have very litt'e affe = 
tion in retirement and secret places. Though he was 
of a very sociable temper, and loved the company ot 
saints, and delighted very much in religious conversa- 
tion, and in social worship ; yet his warmest affections, 
and their greatest effects on his animal nature, and his 
sweetest joys, were in his closet devotions, and solitary 
transactions between God and his own soul: as is very 
observable through his whole course, from his conver 
sion to his death. He delighted greatly in sacred re 
tirements; and loved to get quite away from all the 
world, to converse with God alone,‘in secret duties. — 

Bratnerv’s experiences and comforts were very fe 
from being like those of some persons, which are ai 
tended with a spiritual satiety, and which put an end 
td their religious desires and longings, at least to the 
edge and ardency of them; resting satisfied in their 
own attainments and comforts, as having obtained 
their chief end, which is to extinguish their fears ot 
hell, and give them confidence of the favor of God. 
On the contrary, they were always attended with long- 
ings and thirstings after greater degrees of conformity 
to God! The greater and sweeter his comforts were, 
the more vehement were his desires after holiness. 


Chap. X.] REFLECTIONS. . 351 


His longings were not so much after joyful discoveries 
of God’s love, and clear views of his own title to future 
advancement and eternal honors in heaven; as after 
more of present holiness, greater spirituality, an heart 
more engaged for God, to love, and exalt, and depend 
on him. He earnestly wished to serve God better, to 
-<do more for his glory, to do all that he did with more 

of a regard to Christ as his righteousness and strength, 
and to behold the enlargement and advancement of his 
kingdom on earth. His desires were not idle wishes, 
: but such as were powerful and effectual, to animate 
_ him to the earnest, eager pursuit of these things, with 
the utmost diligence and unfainting labor and self- 
denial. His comforts never put an end to his seeking 
after God, and striving to obtain his grace; but, on the 
contrary, greatly engaged him therein. 

4. His religion did not consist in experience without 
| practice. All his inward illuminations, affections, and 
| comforts, seemed to have a direct tendency to practice, 
and to issue in it: and this, not merely a practice ne 
| Zatively good, free from gross acts of irreligion and 
_ immorality ; but a practice positively holy and Chris- 
tian, in a serious, devout, humble, meek, merciful, 
charitable, and beneficent conversation; making the 
‘service of God and our Lord Jesus Christ the great 
business of life, to which he was devoted, and which 
he pursued with the greatest earnestness and diligence 
to the end of his days, through all trials. In him was 
to be seen the right way of being lively in religion. 
| His liveliness in religion did not consist merely, or 
) mainly, in his being lively with the zongwie, but in deed ; 

not in being forward in profession and outward show, 
} and abundant in declaring his own experiences; but 
ehiefly in being active and abundant in the labors and 


352 LIFE OF BRAINERD. LChap. x 


duties of religion; “not slothful in business, but fer- 
vent in spirit, serving the Lord, and serving his gene- 
ration, according to the will of God. - 


REFLECTION II. 


The foregoing account of Brainerp’s’life may con- 
vince us, that there is indeed such a thing as true ez- 
periniental religion, arising from an immediate divine 
influence, supernaturally enlightening and convincing 
the mind, and powerfully impressing, quickecnine sanc- 
tifying, and governing the heart. 

If any insist that Brawern’s religion was mere en- 
thusiasm, the result of a heated imagination, I would 
ask, What were the rruits of his enthusiasm? In him 
we behold a great degree of honesty and simplicity; 
sincere and earnest eed and endeavors to know and 
do whatever is ri t, and to avoid every thing that is 
wrong; a high degree of love to God; delight in the 
perfections of his nature, placing the bingy of life 
in him, not only in contemplating him, but ‘in being 
active in pleasing and serving him; a firm and undoubt- 
ing belief in the Messiah, as the Savior of the world, 
the great Prophet of God, and King of the church, to- 
gether with great love to him, delight and complacence 
in the way of salvation by him, and longing for the en- 
largement of his kingdom; earnest desires that God 
may be glorified and the Messiah’s kingdom advanced, 
whatever instruments are employed ; uncommon resig- 
nation to the will of God, and that under vast trials; 
and great and universal benevolence to mankind, reach- 
ing all sorts of persons without distinction, manifestiall 
in sweetness of speech and behavior, kind treatment, 
mercy, liberality, and earnestly seeking the good of the 


\ 


Zhap. X.] _ REFLECTIONS. 353 


souls and bodies of men. All this we behold attended 
with extraordinary humility, meekness, forgiveness 
of injuries, and love to enemies. In him we see a 
modest, discreet, and decent deportment, among supe- 
tiors, inferiors, and equals; a most diligent improve- 
ment of time; earnest care to lose no part of it; and 
great watchfulness against all sorts of sin, of heart; 
speech, and action. This example and these endea- 
vors we see attended with most happy fruits, and 
_ blessed effects on others, in humanizing, civilizing, and 
wonderfully reforming and transforming some of the 
most brutish savages; idle, immora] drunkards, mur- 
derers, gross idolaters, and wizards; bringing them to 
_ permanent sobriety, diligence, devotion, honesty, con- 
_ scientiousness, and charity. The foregoing virtues and 
successful Jabors all end at last.in a marvellous peace, 
_ immovable stability, calmness, and resignation, in the 
sensible approaches of death; with longing for the 
heavenly state; not only for the honors and circum- 
_ Stantial Se anieees of it, but above all, for the moral 
| perfection and holy ca blessed Ganloyinean of it. 
These things are seen in a person indisputably of good 
| understanding and judgment. I therefore say, if all 
| these things are the fruits of enthusiasm, why should 
| not enthusiasm be thought a desirable and excellent 
| thing? For what can true religion, what can the best 
philosophy, do more? 


REFLECTION III. 


The preceding history serves to confirm the doctrines 
of grace.. For if it be allowed that there is truth, sub- 
| stance, or value in the main of Brarverp’s religion, it 
| will undoubtedly follow, that those doctrines are di- 
B 30* 


354 LIFE OF BRAINERD. , 


vine; since it is evident that the whole of it, fro 
ning to end, accords with them. He was bro! 
doctrines of this kind, to his awakening and 
cern about things of a spiritual and eternal nature; by 
these doctrines his convictions were maintained and 
carried on; and his conversion was evidently altoge- 
ther agreeable to them. His conversion was no con- 
firming and perfecting of moral principles and habits, 
by use, and practice, and industrious discipline, toge- 
_ ther with the concurring suggestions and conspiring 
aids of God’s Spirit; but entirely a supernatural work, 
at once turning him from darkness to marvellous light, 
and from the power of sin to the dominion of divine 
and holy principles. It was an effect, in no respect 
produced by his strength or labor, or obieined by his 
virtue; and not accomplished till he was first brought 
to a full conviction, that all his own virtue, strength, 
labors and endeavors, could never avail any thing to- 
ward producing or procuring this effect. 

If ever Bratnerp was truly turned from sin to God 
at all, or ever became truly religious, none can reason 
ably fouls: but that his conversion was at the time 
when he supposed it to be. The change which he then 
met with, was evidently the greatest moral change 
that he ever experienced; and he was then apparently 
first brought to that kind of religion, that remarkable 
new habit and temper of mind, which he held all his 
life after. ‘The narration shows it to be different, it 
nature and kind, from all of which he was ever the 
subject before. It was evidently wrought at once 
without fitting and preparing his mind, by gradually 
convincing it more and more of the same truths, an¢ 
bringing it nearer and nearer to such a temper: it was 
soon after his mind had been remarkably full of blas 


Chap: x. REFLECTIONS. 355, 


i) » and a vehement exercise of sensible enmity- 

inst God, and great opposition to those truths which 
he was now brought with his whole soul to embrace, 
and rest in as divine and glorious; truths, in the con- 
templation and improvement of which he placed his 
happiness. He himself, who was surely best able to 
judge, declares, that the dispositions and affections 
which were then given him, and thenceforward main- 
tained in him, were, most sensibly and certainly, alto- 
gether different in their nature from all of which he 
was ever the subject before, or of which he ever had 
any conception. 

Hence it is very evident that Brainerp’s religion was 
the effect of the doctrines of grace applied to his heart: 
and certainly it cannot be denied that the effect was 
good, unless we turn atheists or deists. I would ask 

' whether there be any such thing, in reality, as Chris- 
tian devotion? If there be, what is it? what is its na- 
ture? and what its just measure? Should it not be in 
a great degree? We read abundantly in Scripture of 
“loving God with all the heart, with all the soul, with 
all the mind, and with all the strength; of delighting 
in God, of rejoicing in the Lord, rejoicing with joy un- 
speakable and full of glory; the soul magnifying the 
Lord, thirsting for God, hungering and thirsting after 

righteousness; the soul breaking for the longing it 
hath to God’s judgments, praying to God with groan- 
ings that cannot be uttered, mourning for sin with a 
broken heart-and contrite spirit,’ &c. How full are 
the Psalms, and other parts of Scripture, of such things 
as these! Now wherein do these things, as expressed 
by and appearing in Brarnerp, either the things them- 
selves, or their effects and fruits, differ from the Scrip- 
ture representations? To these things he was brought 


> 


© ‘ y" 
2 


356 . MIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap, 


by that strange and wonderful transformation of the 
man, which he called Ais conversion. Does not thi 
well agree with what is so often said in the Old Tes- 
tament and the New, concerning “ giving a new heart. 
creating a right spirit, being reriewed in the spirit o 
the mind, being sanctified throughout, becoming a ne 
creature 2” § 


REFLECTION IV. 


Is there not much in the preceding memoirs ¢ 
Brainerp to teach, and excite to duty, us who a 
called to the work of the ministry, and all who are ca 
didates for that great work? What a deep sense dic 
he seem to have of the greatness and importance 6 
that work, and with what weight did it lie on his mind 
How sensible was he of his own insufficiency for 
work; and how great was his dependence on God? 
sufficiency! How solicitous that he might be fitted fo 
it! and to this end, how much time did he spend ir 
prayer and fasting, as well as reading and meditation: 
giving himself to these things! How did he dedicate 
his whole life, all his powers and talents to God; z 
forsake and renounce the world, with all its pleasing 
and ensnaring enjoyments, that Ke might be wholly at 
liberty to serve Christ in this work, and to “ please 
him who had chosen him to be a soldier under the 
Captain of our salvation!” With what solicitude, so- 
lemnity and diligence did he devote himself to God 
our Savior, and seek his presence and blessing in se~ 
cret, at the time of his ordination! and how did his 
whole heart appear to be constantly engaged, his whole 
time employed, and his whole strength spent in the 
business he then solemnly undertook, and to which he 
was publicly set apart: His history shows us the right 


= 
. 
Chap. X.J REFLECTIONS, 357 


way to success in the work of the ministry. He sought 
it, as a resolute soldier seeks victory in a siege or bat- 
tle; or as a man who runs a race, secks a great prize. 
Animated with love to Christ and the souls of men, 
how did he “ labor always fervently,” not only in word 
and doctrine, in public and private, but in prayers day 
and night, “wrestling with God” in secret, and “tra- 
vailing in birth,” with unutterable groans and agonies, 
until Christ were formed ” in the hearts of the people 
to whom he was sent! How did he thirst for a bless- 
ing on his ministry, and “ watch for souls, as one that 
must give account!” How did he “go forth in the 
strength of the Lord God,” seeking and depending on 
a special influence of the Spirit to assist and succeed 
him! What was the happy fruit at last, though after 
long waiting, and many dark and discouraging appear- ' 

ces? Like a true son of Jacob, he persevered in 
wrestling, through all the darkness of the night, until 
the breaking of the day. 

To Missionaries in particular, may his example of 
laboring, praying, denying himself, and enduring hard- 
mess with unfainting resolution and patience, and his 
faithful, vigilant, and prudent conduct in nese other 
es singin instruction. 


| REFLECTION V. 


| The foregoing account of Bratnerp’s life may afford 
‘instruction to Christians in general; as it shows, in 
many respects, the right way of practising religion, in 
‘order to obtain the ends, and receive the benefits of it ; 
‘or how Christians should “run the race set before 
\them,” if they would not “ run in vain, or run as un- 
eertainly,” but would honor God m the world, adorn 


358 LIFE OF BRAINEKXD. | Chap. X 


their profession, be serviceable to mankind, have f 
comforts of religion while they live, be free from é 
quieting doubts and dark apprehensions about th 
state of their souls, enjoy peace in the approaches 
death, and “ finish their course with joy.” In genera 
he much recommended, for this purpose, the rede 
tion of time, great diligence in the business of 
Christian life, watchfulness, &c. and he very remari 
bly bteniplifiel these things. 
Particularly, his example and success with rega 
one duty, in an especial manner, may be of great 
to both ministers and private Christians ; I mean” 
duty of secret fasting The reader has seen I 
much Brainerd recommends this duty, and how 1 
quently he exercised himself in it; nor ean it 
have escaped observation, how much he was ow 
and blessed in it, and of what great benefit it evide 
was to his soul. Among all the many days he sp 
in secret fasting and prayer, of which he gives an 
count in his diary, there is scarcely an instance of 6 
which was not either attended or soon. Nin y 


apparent success, and a cos of Got Sp g, in spe 


influences and consolations of God’s it, -and ver 
often before the day w. But it’ must be ¢ 
served, that when he set about this duty, he did iti 
good earnest; “ stirring up himself to take hold ¢ 
God,” and “ continuing instant in prayer,” with muc 
of the spirit of Jacob, who said to the angel, = 
not let thee go, excep ot thou bless me.” 


af REFLECTION VI. 


There is much in’ the preceding account to exe 
and encourage God’s people to earnest prayers ar 


hap. X.] REFLECTIONS. 359 


ndeavors for the advancement and enlargeinent of the 
ingdom of Christ in the world. Bratnerp set us an 
xcellent example in this respect. He sought the pros- 
erity of Zion with all his might ; and preferred Jeru- 
ilem above his chief joy. How did his soul long for 
, and pant after it! how earnestly and often did he 
rrestle with God for it! and how far did he in these 
esires and prayers seem to be carried beyond all pri- 
ate and selfish views! being animated by a pure love 
) Christ, an earnest desire of his glory, and a disinte- 
asted affection to the souls of mankind. 

The consideration of this, not only ought tobe an 
acitement to the people of God, but may also be a just 
ncouragement to them, to be much in seeking and 
raying for a general outpouring of the Spirit of God, 
nd an extensive revival of religion. I confess, that 
tod’s giving so. much of a spirit of prayer for this 
aercy to so eminent a servant of his, and exciting 
im in so extraordinary a manner, and with such ve- 
vement thirstings of soul, to-agonize in prayer for it, 
rom time to time, through the course of his life, is 
ne thing, among others, which gives me great hope 
hat God has a design of accomplishing something very 
lorious for the interest of his church before long. One 
uch instance as this, I conceive, gives more encou- 
agement than the common, cold, formal prayers of 
housands. As Braterp’s desires and prayers for the 
soming of Christ’s kingdom were very special and ex- 
raordinary ; 80 1 think we may reasonably hope, that 
he God who excited those desires and prayers, will 
inswer them with something special and extraordi- 
vary. And ina particular manner do I think it wor- 
hy of notice for our encouragement, that he had his 
qeart unusually drawn out in longings and prayers for 


. 


bosom of his feaechnen in prayers an 
the glorious event; expiring in very 


it would soon begin to be ome th 


Bee ious dispensation of aca 
family, in so ordering that he, cee the ordi ng 
place of his abode was more than two hundred 1 
distant, should be brought to my house in his last 
ness, and should die here. Thus we had opportu 
for much acquaintance and conversation with him 
show him kindness in such circumstances, to see 
.. dying behavior, to hear his dying speeches, to rece 
-.» his dying counsels, and to have the benefit of his dyi 
prayers. May God in infinite mercy “grant, that 
may ever retain a proper remembrance of these thi 
and make a due improvement of the advantages | 
have had in these respects! The Lord grant also, tl 
the foregoing account of Brainern’s life and death m 
be for the great spiritual benefit of all who shall read 
~*. and prove a happy means of promoting the revive 
‘true religion! Amen. ‘ 


~ 


i 


) 


Perpotnated by the Donations of mabe. George Douglass, Charles Sta 
and William A. Hallock, a sca 
al 


4 


TFTREATISB 


KEEPING THE HEART. 


SELECTED FROM THE WORKS 9F 


: THE REV. JOHN FLAVEL. 


The atyle adapted to the present state of improvemert 


PUBLISHED BY THE 


AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 
NO. 130 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. 
—— 


! D. Fanshaw, Printer. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
The text explained, - . = - . = c 5 
Duties included in keeping the heart, - : 10 
Reasons whiy this should be the great business of life, 12 


PARTICULAR SEASONS, 


1. The time of prosperity, - - ‘- + + 2 
2. The time of adversity, - + - -— = 31 
3. The time of Zion’s troubles, ert emt n tal - 38 
4. The time of danger and public distraction, - 45 
5. The time of outward wants, - - « 55 
6. The season of duty, - - “ = = 65 
7. When we receive injuries and abuses from men, 72 
8. When we meet with great trials, - - 7 
¥. The hour oftemptation, - - - - - 8 
10. The time of doubting and spiritual darkness, - 83 
11. When sufferings for religion are laid upon us, - 91 
1. When sickness warns that death is near, - : 94 
IMPROVEMENT. 

To hypocrites and formal professors, - - - 98 
Toa the peopleofGod, - - - - = - 99 


Two things which consume the time and strength of 
professors, - = gh < ee ei 99 

Exhortation to hearty engagedness in keeping the heart, 102 

Ten motives by way of inducement, - - - - 102 


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KEEPING THE HEART. 


‘KEEP TAY HEART WITH ALL DILIGENCE, FOR OUT OF IT 
ARE THE ISSUES OF LIFE.—Proverbs, 4; 23. 


Tue heart of man is his worst part before it be regene- 
rated, and the best afterward ; it isthe seat of principles, 
and the fountain of actions. Theeye of God is, and the 
eye of the Christian ought to be, principally fixed upon it. 

The greatest difficulty in conversion, is to win the 
heart to God; and the greatest difficulty after conversion, 
isto keep the heart with God. Here lies the very force 
and stress of religion; here is that which makes the 
way to life a narrow way, and the gate of heaven a 
strait gate. Direction and help in this great work are 
the scope of the text: wherein we have, 

I. An exhortation, “Keep thy heart with all dili- 
gence.” 

_ IL The reason or motive enforcing it, “For out of it 
are the issues of life.” 

| In the exhortation I shall consider, 

First, The matter of the duty. 

| Secondly, The manner of performing it. 

| 1. The matter of the duty: Keep thy heurt. Heart 
§ not here taken properly for the noble part of the body, 
which philosophers call “the first that lives and the last 
hat dies;” but by heart, in a metaphor, the Scripture 
jometimes represents some particular noble faculty of the 
oul. InRom.1: 21, itis put for the understanding ; 


| 


6 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


their foolish heart, that is, their foolish understanding 
was darkened. Psalm 119: 11, it is put for the memo 
ry; “Thy word have I hid in my heart ;” and 1 John 
3: 10, it is put for the conscience, which has in it both 
the light of the understanding and the recognitions of 
the memory; if our heart condemn us, that is, if our 
conscience, whose proper office it is to condemn. 

Butin the text we are to take it more generally, for the 
whole soul, or inner man. What the heart is to the body, 
that the soul is to the man; and what health is to the 
heart, that holiness is to the soul. The state of the 
whole body depends upon the soundness and vigor of 
the heart, and the everlasting state of the whole man 
upon the good or ill condition of the soul. ° 7 

By keeping the heart, understand the diligent and 
constant* use of all holy means to preserve the soul from 
sin, and maintain its sweet and free communion with 
God. Lavater on the text will have the word taken 
from a besieged garrison, beset by many enemies ae 
out, and in danger of being betrayed by treache Q 
citizens within, in which danger the soldiers, upon pain 
of death, are commanded to watch 5 and though the ex- 
pression, Keep thy heart, seems to put it upon us as Our 
work, yet it does not imply a sufficiency in us to 
We are as able to stop the sun in its course, or to m: 
the rivers run backward, as by our own skill and p 
to rule and order our hearts. We may as well be out 
own saviors as our own keepers; and yet Solomon 
speaks properly enough when he says, Keep thy heart, 
because the duty is ours, thought the power is of God; 
what power we have depends upon the exciting and as- 


*Isay constant, for the reason added in the text extends the 
duty to all the states and conditions of a Christian's life, and 
makes it binding always. If the heart must be kept, beca' 
out of it are the issues of life, then as long as these issues of 
do Sow out of it, we are obliged to keepit. 3 


7s my 
r : 
ON KEEPING THE HEART- 7 


sting strength of Christ. Grace within us is beholden 
» grace without us. * Without me ye can do nothing.” 
\o mueh for the matter of the duty. 

2. The manner of performing it is with all diligence. 
‘he Hebrew is very emphatical ; keep with all keeping, 
c, keep, keep ; set double guards. This vehemency of 

ion with which the duty is urged, plainly im- 
lies how difficult it is to keep our hearts, how dange- 
jus to neglect them ! 
The motive to this duty is very forcible and weighty : 
For out of the heart are the issues of life.” That is, 
1e heart is the source of all vital operations; it is the 
wing and original of both good and evil, as the spring 
1a wacch that sets all the wieels in motion. The heart 
, the treasury, the hand and tongue but the shops; 
yhat is in these, comes from that; the hand and tongue 
lways begin where the heart ends. The heart contrives, 
nd the members execute: “a good man, out of the good 
seasure of his heart, bringeth forth that which is good ; 
ind an evil man, out of the evil treasure of his heart, 
gingeth forth that which is evil: for of the abundance 
f the heart his mouth speaketh.” So then, if the heart 
ir imits work, these must miscarry in theirs ; for heart 
“rors are like the errors of the first concoction, which 
i be rectified afterward; or like the misplacing and 
Pies of the stamps and letters in the press, which 
nust cause so many errata in all the copies that are 
minted. O then how important a duty is that which 
Seontained in the following 

| Puorosrrion.— The keeping and right managing of 
he heart in every condition, is one great business of a 
Christian’s life. 

| Whe the philosopher says of waters, is as properly 
ipplicable to hearts ; it is hard to keep them withm any 
younds. God has set limits to them, yet how frequently 


8 ON KEEPING THE MEART. 


do they transgress not only the bounds of grace andt 
gion, but even of reason and common honesty? This 
that which affords the Christian matter of labor 
watchfulness, to his dying day. It is not the cleaning 
the hand that makes the Christian, for many a hy 
crite can show as fair a hand as he; but the purifyin, 
watching, and right ordering of the heart; this is t} 
thing that provokes so many sad complaints, and costs: 
many deep groans and tears. It was the pride of Hez 
kiah’s heart that made him lie in the dust, mournin 
before the Lord. It was the fear of hypocrisy’s invadin 
the heart that made David cry, “Let my heart be sour 
in thy statutes, that I be not ashamed.” It was the sa 
experience he had of the divisions and distractions of h 
own heart in the service of God, that made him pour ot 
the prayer, “Unite my heart to fear thy name.” 

The method in which I propose to improve the propi 
sition is this: 

First, I shall inquire what the keeping of the hea 
supposes and imports. 

Secondly, Assign divers reasons why Christians mui 
make this a leading business of their lives. 

Thirdly, Point out those seasons which especially ca 
for this diligence in keeping the heart. 

Fourthly, Apply the whole. 

First, 1 am to consider what the keeping of the heai 
supposes and imports. 

To keep the heart, necessarily supposes a previous wor 
of regeneration, which has set the heart right, by givi 
it a new epiritudl inclination, for as long as the heart 
not set right by grace as toits habituai frame, no mean 
can keep it right with God. Self is the poise of the u 
renewed heart, which biasses and moves it in all its 
signs and actions; and as long as it is so, it is impossib! 
that any external means should keep it with God. _ 


ON KEEPING THE IEART. 9 


ally, was of one constant, uniform frame 
eld one straight and even course; not one 
igh faculty was disordered: his mind had a 
feet knowledge of the requirements of God, his will 
erfect compliance therewith; all his appetites and 
wers stood in a most Gietlient subordination. 
Man, by the apostacy, is become a most discrdered 
ad rebellious creature, opposing his Maker, as the First 
Vause, by self-dependence ; as the Chief Good, by self- 
pve; as the Highest Lord, by self-will; and as the Last 
\ * by self-seeking. Thus he is quite disordered, and 
his actions are irregular. But by regeneration the dis- 
rdered soul is set right ; this great change being, as the 


ic ace expresses it, the renovation of the soul after 


jellious appetite gradually conquered. Thus the soul 
hich sin had universally depraved, is by grace restor- 
This being pre-supposed, it will not be difficult to 
ipprehend what it is to keen the heart, which is nothing 


as raised it. For though grace has, in a great measure, 
Petified the soul, and given it an habitual heavenly tem- 
3 yet sin often actually discomposes it again ; so that 
en a gracious heart is likea musical instrument, which 
nough it be exactly tuned, a small matter brings it out 
f tane again; yea, hang it aside but a little, and it will 
eed setting again before another lesson can be played 
pon it. If gracious hearts are in a desirable frame 
One duty, yet how dull, dead, and disordered when 
ey come to another! Therefore every duty needs 


10 UN KEEPING THE BEART. % 
a particular preparation of the heart. “If thou pr 
thine heart and stretch out thine hands toward hi 
&c. To keep the heart then, is carefully to prese 
from sin, which disorders it; and maintain that spiri 
frame which fits it for a life of communion with 

This includes in it six particulars. 

1. Frequent observation of the frame of the hear 
Carnal and formal persons take no heed to this; t 
cannot be brought toconter with theirown hearts: ther 
are some people who have lived forty or fifty years i 
the world, and have had scarcely one hour’s discout 
with hein own hearts. It is a hard thing to brin 
man and himself together on such business; but sail 
know those soliloguies to be very salutary. The 
then could say, “the soui is made wise by sitting 
in quietness.” ‘Though bankrupts care not to look 
to their accounts, yet upright hearts will know whe 
they go backward or forward. “I commune will 
mine own heart,” says David. The heart can ne 
be kept until its case be examined and understood. 

2. lt includes deep humiliation for heart evils and 
orders; thus Hezekiah humbled himself for the pri 
of his heart. Thus the people were ordered to sp 
forth their hands to God in prayer, realizing the pla 
of their own hearts. Upon this account many an up 
right heart has been laid low before God; ‘ O what 
heart have I? Saints have in their confession pointer 
at the heart, the pained place: ‘ Lord, here is the war 
It is with the heart well kept, as it is with the eye; 
a small dust get into the eye it will never cease twi 
ling and watering till it has wept it out: so the upri 
heart cannot be at rest till it has wept out its trou 

and poured cut its complaints before the Lord. 
* 3. Itincludes earnest supplication and ino 
for purifying and rectifying grace when sin has de 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 11 


ind flisordered the heart. “ Cleanse thou me from secret 
aults.* “ Unite my heart to fear thy name.” Saints 
ave always many such petitions before the throne of 
God's grace; this is the thing which is most pleaded by 
hem with God. When they are praying for outward 
nercies, perhaps their spits may be more remiss ; but 
when it comes to tne heart’s case, they extend their spi- 
‘itso the utmost, fill their mouths with arguments, weep 
ind make supplication: ‘O 1or a better heart! O for a 
leart to love God more; to hate sin more; to walk more 
venly with God. Lord! deny not to me such a heart, 
vhatever thou deny me: give me a heart to fear thee, 
0 love and delight in thee, if I beg my bread in desolate 
laces.’ It is observed of an eminent saint, that when he 
vas confessing sin, he would never give over confessing 
intil he had felt some brokenness of heart for that sin ; 
ind when praying for any spiritual mercy, would never 
sive over that suit till he had obtained some relish of that 
nercy. 

4. It includes the imposing of strong engagements 
jpon ourselves to walk more carefully with God, and 
woid the oceasions whereby the heart may be induced 
a sin. Well advised and deliberate vows are, in some 
ases, very useful to guard the heart against some spe- 
jal sin. “Ihave made a covenant with mine eyes,” 
ays Job. By this means holy men have overawed 
heir souls, and preserved themselves from defilement. 
6. It includes a constant and holy jealousy over our 
wn hearts. Quicksighted self-jealousy is an excellent 
reservative from sin. He that will keep his heart, must 
ave the eyes of the soul awake and open upon all the 
isorderly and tumultuous stirrings of his affections; if 
ne affections break loose, and the passions be stirred, the 
jul must discover it, and suppress them before they get 
aheight. ‘O my soul, dost thou well in this? my 


| 


12 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


tumuttuous thoughts and passions, where is’ ycur, 
mission? Happy is the man that chus feareta al 
By this fear of the Lord it is that men depart from 
shake off sloth, and preserve themselves from iniqui 
He that will keep his heart musteat and drink with fee 
rejoice with fear, and pass the whole time of his — 
ing here in fear, All this is little enough tokeep the h 

from sin, ‘ 

6. It includes the realizing of God’s presence with 7 
and setting the Lord always before us. This the peop 
have found a powerful means of keeping their hearts d 

right, and awing them from sin.. When the eye of 
faith is fixed upon the eye of God's omniscience, we dat 
not let out our thoughts and affections to vanity. Hol 
Job durst not suffer his heart to yield to an impure, v 
thought, and’ what, was it that moved him to so gre 
biretnspecnentl He tells us, “ Doth not He see m 
ways, and count all my steps ?” r 

In such particulars as these do gracious souls expre 
the care they have of their hearts, They are. careful | 
prevent the breaking loose of the corruptions i in time; 
temptation ; careful to preserve the sweetness and con 
fort they have got from God in any duty. This is th 
work, and of all works in. religion it is the most diffieu 
constant, and important work, 

1. It is the hardest work. Heart-work is hard wai 
indeed. To shuffle over religious duties with a loose ar 
heedless spirit, will cost no great pains ; but to set thyse 
before the Lord, and tie up thy loose and vain thoughts’ 
a constant and serious attendance upon him; this wi 
cost thee something. To attain a facility and dexterit 
of language in prayer, and put thy meaning into apt ar 
decent expressions, is easy; but to get thy heart broke 
for sin, while thou art confessing it; melted with fie 
grace while thou art blessing God for it; to be reall 


ON KEEPING THE DFART. 13 


ashamed and humbled through the apprehensions of 
- God’s infinite holiness, and to keep thy heart in this frame, 

not only in, but after duty, will surely cost thee some 

_ groans and pains of soul. To repress the outward acts 

of sin, and compose ‘the external part of thy lifeina 

laudable manner, is no great matter; even carnal per- 
sons, by the force of common aration can do this: but 
_ to kill the root of corruption within, to set and keep up an 
holy government over thy thoughts, to have all things 
lie straight and orderly in the heart, this is not easy. 

2. Itis a constant work. The keeping of the heart isa 
work that is never done till life is ended. There is no 
_time or condition in the life of a Christian which will 

suffer an intermission of this work. It isin keeping watch 
_over our hearts, as it was in keeping up Moses’ hands 
_ while Israel and Amalek were fighting. -No sooner do 

the hands of Moses grow heavy and sink down, than 
' Amalek prevails. Intermitting the watch over their own 
_ hearts for but a few minutes, cost David and Peter many 
asad day and night. 
' 3. Itis the most important business of a Christian’s 
life. Without this we are but formalists in religion: all 
our professions, gifts and duties signify nothing. “ My 
son, give me thine heart,” is God’s request. God is 
pleased to call that a gift which is indeed a debt; he 
will put this honor upon the creature, to receive it from 
him in the way of a gift; but if this be not given him, he 
regards not whatever else you bring to him, There is 
only so much of worth in what we do, as there is of heart 
init. Concerning the heart, God seems to say, as Joseph 
of Benjamin, “If you bring not Benjamin with you, you 
shall not see my face.” Among the Heathen, when the 
beast was cut up for sacrifice, the first thing the priest 
looked upon was the heart ; and if that was unsound and 


worthless the sacrifice was rejected. God rejects at! dy- 
2 K, the Heart. 


; 


14 ON KEEPING THE HEART. ; 


ties (how glorious soever in other respects) which are 
fered him without the heart. He that performsduty wi 
out the heart, that is, heedlessly, is no more accepted with 
God than fie that performs it with a double heart, thai 
is, hypocritically. 

Thus I have briefly considered what the keeping of the 
heart supposes and imports. I proceed, - 

Secondly, To assign divers reasons why Christian: 
must make this the great business of their live ; 

The impertance and necessity of fieking eee his our great 
business will manifestly appear from several considera: 
tions. 

1. The glory of Gad is much concerned. Heart-evil 
are very provoking evils to the Lord. ‘The Schools cor 
rectly observe, that outward sins are “sins of great infa 
my ;” but that the heart sins are “sins of deeper guilt? 
How severely has the great God declared his wrath from 
heaven against heart-wickedness ! The crime for whiel 
the old world stands indicted is heart-wickedness! “ Got 
saw that every imagination of their hearts was only evil 
and that continually; for which hesent the most dread{u 
judgments that were ever inflicted since time began 
We find not their murders, adulteries, blasphemie: 
(though they were defiled with these) particularly alleg 
ed against them; but the evils of their hearts. That by 
which God was so provoked as to give up his peculia 
inheritance into the enemy’s hand, was the evil of thei 
hearts. “ O Jerusalem, wash thine heart from wicked 
ness, that thou mayest be saved ; how long shall thy vai 
thoughts lodge within thee ?” 

or the wickedness and vanity of their thoughts Goi 
took particular notice; and because of this the Chal 
deans must come upon them, “asa lion from his thickei 
and tear them to pieces.” Fr the sin of thoughts it wa 
that God threw down the fallen angels from heaven, an 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 15 


still keeps them in “ everlasting chains” to the judg- 
ment of the great day; by which expression is not 
obscurely intimated some extraordinary judgment to 
which they are reserved; as prisoners that have most 
irons laid upon them may be supposed to be the greatest 
malelactors. And what was their sin? Spiritual wick- 
edness. Merely heart-evils are so provoking to God, that 
for them he rejects with indignation all the duties that 
some men perform. “ He that killeth an ox is as if he 
slew a man; he that sacrifices a lamb, as if he cut off a 
dog’s neck ; he that offereth an oblation, as if he offered 
swine’s blood; he that burneth incense, as if he blessed 
an idol.” In what words could the abhorrence of a crea- 
ture’s actions be more fully expressed by the holy God ? 
Murder and idolatry are not more vile in his account, 
than their sacrifices, though moterially such as himself 
appointed. And what made their sacrifices so vile? The 
following words inform us: “ Their soul delighteth in 
their abominations.” 

_ Such is the vileness of mere heart-sins, that the Serip- 
‘tures sometimes intimate the difficulty of pardon for them. 
The heart of Simon Magus was not right, he had base 
thoughts of God, and of. the things of God: the apostle 
bade. him “repent and pray, if perhaps the thoughts of 
his heart might be forgiven him.” O then never slight 
heart evils! for by these God is highly wronged. and 
provoked. For this reason let every Christian keep his 
heart with all diligence. 
_ 2. The sincerity of our profession much depends upon 
|the care we exercise in keeping our hearts. Most cer- 
‘tainly, that man who is careless of the frame of his 
heart, is but a hypocrite in his profession, however emi- 
‘ment he be in the externals of religion. We have a 
(striking instance of this in the history of Jehu. “ But 
/Jehu took no heed to walk in the ways of the Lord God 


16 ON KEEPING THE HEART. ¥ 


of Israei with his heart.” THe context gives an —_ 
of the great service performed by Jehu against the ho 

of Ahab and Baal, and also of the great temporal re- 
ward given him by God for that service, even that 
his children, to the fourth generation, should sit upon 
the throne of Israel. Yet in these words Jehu is cen- 
sured as a hypocrite: though God approved and re 
warded the work, yet he abhorred and rejected the per- 
son that did it, as hypocritical. Wherein lay the hypo- 
crisy of Jehu ? 2 Inthis; he took no heed to walk in the 
ways of the Lord with his heart ; that is, he did all in- 
sincerely and for selfish ends: aiid though the work he 
did was materially good, yet he, not purging his heart 
from those unworthy selfish designs in doing it, was@ 
hypocrite. And though Simon Magus appeared such & 
person that the apostle could not regularly reject him, 
‘yet his hypocrisy was quickly discovered. Though he 
professed piety and asscciated himself with the saints, 
he was astranger to the mortification of heart-sins. “ Thy 
heart is not right with God.” It is true, there is great 
jifference between Christians themselves in their dili- 
gence and dexterity about heart work; some are more 
conversant with, and more successful in it than others: 
but he that takes no heed to his heart, that is not careful 
to order it aright before God, is but a hypoerite. “ And 
they come unto thee as the ‘people cometh, and they sit 
before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but 
they will not do them: for with their mouth they chow 
much love, but their heart goethafter their covetousness.” 
Here was a company of formal hypocrites, as is evident 
from that expression, as my people ; like them, but not 
of them. And what madethemso? Their outside was 
fair; heré were reverent postures, high professions, much 
seeming delight in ordinances; é thou art to them asa 
lovely song : 2” yea, but for all that they — not their 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 17 


hearts with God in those duties; their hearts were com- 
manded by their iusts, they went after their covetousness. 
Had they kept their hearts with God, all had been well: 
but not regarding which way their hearts went in duty, 
there lay the essence of their hypocrisy. 

If any upright soul should hence infer, ‘I am a hypo- 
crite too, for many times my heart departs from God in 
duty ; do what I can, yet I cannot hold it close with 
God; I answer, the very objection carries in it its own 
solution. Thou sayest, ‘Do what I can, yet I eannot keep 
my heart with God.’ Soul, ifthoudoest what thou canst, 
thou hast the blessing of an upright, though God sees 
good to exercise thee under the affliction of a discom- 
posed heart. 

_ There still remains some wildness in the thoughts and 
fancies of the best to humble them; but if you find a 
eare before to prevent them, and opposition against them 
when they come, and grief and sorrow afterward, you 
find enough to clear you from the charge ‘of reigning 
hypocrisy. This precaution is seen partly i in laying up 
the word in thy heart to prevent them. “ Thy word 
have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against 
thee. » Partly in your endeavors to engage your heart 
to God; and partly in begging precendiits grace from 
God in your commencement of duty. It is a good sign 
fo exercise such precaution. And it is an evidence of 
uprightness, to oppose these sins in their first rise. “I 
hate vain thoughts.” “The spirit lusteth against the 
flesh.” Thy grief also discovers the uprightness of thy 
heart. If with Hezekiah thou art humbled for the evils 
of thy heart, thou hast no reason, from those disorders, 
to question the integrity of it; but to suffer sin to lodge 
quietly in the heart, to let thy heart habitually and un- 
leontrolledly wander from God, is a sad, a dangerous 


symptom indeed. & 


18 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


3. The beauty of our conversation arises from the 
heavenly frame of our spirits, There is a spiritual tose 
tre and beauty in the conversation of saints. “ The 
righteous is more excellent than his neighbor ;” saints 
shine as the lights of the world ; but whatever lustre and 
beauty is in their lives, comes from the excellency of their 
spirits; asthe candle within puts lustre upon the lantern 
in which it shines. It is impossible that a disordered and 
neglected heart should ever produce well ordered con- 
versation; and since (as the text observes) the issues or 
streams of life flow out of the heart as their fountain, it 
must follow, that such as the heart is, the life will be. 
Hence 1 Peter,2: 12, “Abstain from fleshly lusts—having 
your conversation honest,” or beautiful, as the Gre 
word imports. So Isaiah, 55: 7. “Let the wicked forsake 
his way, and the unrighteous mam his thoughts.” Ji 
way, denotes the course of his life; his thoughts, the 
frame of his heart: and therefore since the course of his 
life flows from his thoughts, or the frame of his heart, 
both, or neither will be forsaken. ae the source 
of all actions; these actions are virtually and radically 
cofitained in our thoughts; these thoughts being once 
made up into affections, are quickly made out into suita- 
ble actions. If the heart be wicked, then, as Christ says, 
“Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders,” &e. 
Mark the order: first, wanton or revengeful thoughts; 
then unclean, or murderous practices. And if the heart 
be holy, then it is as with David “My heart is inditing 
a good matter—I speak of the things which I have made, 
my tongue is as the penof a ready writer.” Here is a 
lite richly beautified with good works, some ready made— 
Twill speak of the things which I have made ; others 
making—my heart is inditing ; both proceed from the 
heavenly frame of his heart. Put the heart in frame, 
and the life will quickly discover that itis so. It is not 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 19 


very difficult to discern, by the performances and converse 
of Christians, what frames their spirits are in. Take a 
Christian in a good frame, and how serious, heavenly 
and profitable will his conversation and religious exer- 
cises be! what a lovely companion is he during the 
continuance of it! it would do any one’s heart good | to be 
withhim at sucha time. ‘‘ The mouth of the righteous 
speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talketh of judgment ; 
the law of his God is in his heart.’ When the heart is 
up with God, and full of God, how dexterously will he 
insinuate spiritual discourse, improving every occasion 
and advantage to some heavenly purpose! Hew words 
then run to waste. And what can be the reason that the 
discourses and duties of many Christians are become so 
frothy and unprofitable, their communion both with God 
and with one another becomes as a dry stalk, but this, 
thir hearts are neglected? Surely this must be the 
reason of it, and it is an evil greatly to be bewailed. 
Thus the attracting beauty that was wont to shine, from 
the conversation of the saints, upon the faces and con- 
‘sciences ol the world, (which, if it did not aliure and 
bring them in love with the ways of God, at least left a 
testimony in their consciences of the excellency of those 
men and of their ways,) is in a great measure lost, to the 
unspeakable detriment of religion. Time was, when 
Christians conducted in such a manner that the world 
stood gazing at them. Their life and language were 
of a different strain from those of others, their tongues 
discovered them to be Galileans wherever they came. 
But now, since vain speculations and fruitless controver- 
sies have so much obtained, and heart-work, practical 
| godliness, is so much neglected among professors, the 
case is sadly altered : their discourse is become like other 
| men’s; if they come among you now, they may “hear 
every man speak in his own language.” Ard I have 
I 


| 


20 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


little hope to see this evil redressed, and. the credit 
religion repaired, till Christians do their first works, 
they apply again to heart-work: when the salt 
heavenly-mindedness is cast into the spring, the stream 
will run more clear and more sweet. 

4, The comfort of our souls much depends upon 
keeping of our hearts; for he that is negligent in at 
tending to his own heart, is, ordinarily, a great stran 
to assurance, and the comforts following from it. Indeed 
if the Antinomian doctrine were true, which teaches yo 
to reject all marks and signs for the trial of your condi 
tion, telling you that it is the Spirit that immediately as 
sures you, by witnessing your adoption directly, witho 
them ; then you might be careless of your hearts, yea, 
strangers to them, and yet no strangers to comfort: bu’ 
since both Scripture and experience confute this, I hope 
you will never look for comfort in this unscriptural way. 
I deny not that it is the work and office of the Spirit to 
assure you; yet I confidently affirm, that if ever you at- 
tain assurance in the ordinary way wherein God dis- 
penses it, you must take pains with your own hearts, 
You may expect your comforts upon easier terms, but 1 
am mistaken if ever you enjoy them upon any other? 
give all diligence ; prove yourselves ; this is the cing 
tural method. A distinguished writer, in his treatise o' 
the covenant, tells us that he knew a Christian who, in 
the infancy of his Christianity, so vehemently panted af= 
ter the infallible assurance of God’s love, that for a long 
time together he earnestly desired some voice from hea= 
ven; yea, sometimes walking in the solitary fields, ear- 
nestly desired some miraculous voice from the trees and 
stones there: this, after many desires and longings, was 
Jenied ; but in time a better was afforded in the ordi- 
nary way of searching the word and his own heart. An 
instance of the like nature another learned person gives’ 


OC) 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. P| 


is of one that was driven by temptation upon the very 
orders of despair; at last, being sweetly settled and as- 
ured, one asked him how he attained it; he answered, 
‘Not by any extraordinary revelation, but by subjecting 
ny understanding to the Scriptures, and comparing my 
leart with them.” The Spirit, indeed, assures by wit- 
essing our adoption; and he witnesses in two ways. 
Ine way is, objectively, that is, by producing those gra- 
es in our souls which are the conditions of the promise; 
ind so the Spirit, and his graces in us, are all one: the 
Spirit of God dwelling in us, is a mark of our adoption. 
Now the Spirit can be discerned, not in his essence, but 
n his operations; and to discern these, is to discern the 
Spirit ; and how these can be discerned without serious 
earching and diligent watching of the heart. I cannot 
magine. The other way of the Spirit’s witnessing is 
ffectively, that is, by irradiating the soul with a grace 
liscovering light, shining upon his own work ; ; and this, 
n order of nature, follows the former work: he first in- 
uses the grace, and then opens the eye of the soul to 
eeit. Now, since the heart is the subject of that infus- 
d grace, even this way of the Spirit’s witnessing in- 
Tudes the necessity of carefully keeping our own hearts. 
‘or, 

1. A neglected heart isso confused and dark, that the 
ttle grace which is in it is not ordinarily discernible: 
e most accurate and laborious Christians sometimes 
fid it difficult to discover the pure and genuine work- 
ngs of the Spirit in their hearts. How then shall the 
hristian who is comparatively negligent about heart- 
ork, be ever able to discover grace? Sincerity ! which 
p the thing sought, lies in the heart like a small piece of 
old on the bottom of a river; he that would find it 
ust stay till the water is clear, and then he will see it 
parkling at the bottom. That the heart may be clear 


22 ©N KEEPING THE HEART. 


and settled, how much pains and watching, care ar 
diligence, are requisite! 

2. God does not usually indulge negligent souls 
the comforts of assurance; he will not so much as seem 
to patronize sloth and carelessness. He will give assar 
ance, but it shall be in his own way ; his command hath 
united our care and comfort together. Those are mistake i 


bor. Ah! hag ae. solitary hours have the people of 
God spent in heart-examination! how many times haye 
they looked intothe word, and then into their hearts! 
Sometimes they thought they discovered sincerity, ar 
were even ready to draw forth the triumphant conclu 
sion of assurance; then comes a doubt they c 
resolve, and destroys it all: many hopes and fea 
doubtings and reasonings, they have had in their ow 
breasts before they arrived at a comfortable settlement. 
But suppose it possible for a careless Christian to attain 
assurance, yet it is impossible for him jong to retain i 
{or it is a thousand to one if those whose hearts are filled 
with the joys of assurance, long retain those joys, unless 
extraordinary care be used. A little pride, vanity, or 
carelessness wil] dash to pieces all that for which the 
have been a long time laboring in many a weary dut 
Since then the joy of our life, the comfort of our souls, 
rises and falls with our diligence in this work, keep your 
ng with all diligence. 

. 'The improvement of our graces depends on 
.. of our hearts. I never knew grace to thrive 
a careless soul. The habits and roots of grace at 
planted in the heart; and the deeper they are roote 
there, the more fourishing erace is. In Eph. 3: 17, we 
read of being “ rooted” in grace ; grace in the head | 
the rcot of every gracious sword in the mouth, and 
every holy work in the hand, It is true,. Christ is 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. ; 23 


root of a Christian, but Christ is the originating root, and 
Grace a root originated, planted, and influenced by 
Christ ; accordingly, as this thrives under divine influ- 
ences, the acts of grace are more or less fruitful or vigo- 
rous. Now, in a heart not kept with care and diligence, 
these fructif ying influences are stopt and cut off—multi- 
tudes of vanities break in upon it, and devour its stren eth; 
the heart is, as it were, the inelecure, in which multi- 
tudes of thoughts are fed every day; a gracious heart, 
diligently kept, feeds many precious thoughts of God in 
a day. “ How precious are thy thoughts unto me, O 
God! how great is the sum of them! If I should count 
them, they are more in number than the sand: when I 
awake, Iam still with thee.” And as whe gracious heart 
nourishes them, so they refresh and feast the heart. My 

soul is filled as with marrow and fatness while I think 
pon thee,” &c. But in the disregarded heart, multi- 
des of vain and foolish thoughts are perpetually work- 
ng; and drive out those spiritual thoughts of God by 
which the soul should be refreshed. Besides, the careless 
aeart profits nothing by any duty or ordinance it performs 
r attends upon, and yet these are the conduits of heaven, 
whence grace is watered and made fruitful. A man 
nay go with a heedless spirit from ordinance to ordi- 
aance, abide all his days under the choicest teaching, 
and yet never be improved by them; for heart-neglect 
ls a leak in the bottom—no heavenl y iifuences however 
ich, abide in that soul. When the seed falls upon the 
eart that lics open and common, like the taint. pee 
, ali passengers, the fowls comme and devour it. Alas 
tis.not enough to hear, unless we take heed how we 
lear; a man may pray, and never be the better, unless 
ne ail unto prayer. In a word, all means are blessed 
0 the improvement of grace, according to the care and 
strictness we use in keeping our hearts in them. 


24 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


6. The stability of our souls in the hovr of temptat 
depends upon the care we exercise in keeping our hearts, 
The careless heart is an easy prey to Satan in the hour 
of temptation ; his principal batteries are raised agai 
the heart; if he wins that he wins all, for it commands 
the whole man: and alas! how easy a conquest is . 
neglected heart! It is not more difficult to surprise s ch 
a heart, than for an enemy to enter that city whose gates 
are open and unguarded. It is the watchful heart that 
discovers and suppresses the temptation before it com 
to its strength. Divines observe this to be the method ip 
which temptations are ripened and brought to their fall 
strength. There is the irritation of the object, or t 
power it has to provoke our corrupt nature; which j 


speculation when the object (though absent) is held out 
by the imagination before the soul. Then follows th 
motion of the appetite, which is provoked by the faney 
representing it as a sensual good. Then there is a con 
sultation in the mind about the best means of accomplis 
ing it. Next follows the election, or choice of the will 
And lastly, the desire, or full engagement of the will te 
it. All this may be done in a few minutes, for the debates 
of the soul are quick and soon ended: when it comes 
thus far, the heart is won, Satan hath entered victo 
riously and displayed his colors upon the walls of that 
royal fort; but, had the heart been well guarded at first, 
it had never come to this—the temptation had been stop 
ped in the first or second act. And indeed there it is 
stopped easily ; for it is in the motion of a soul tempt 

to sin, as in the motion of a stone falling from the brow 
of a hill—it is easily stopped at first, but when once it 
set in motion “it acquires strength by descending, 
Therefore it is the greatest wisdom to observe the fin 
motions of the heart, to checi and stop sin there. - 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 2% 


motions of sin are weakest at first; a little care and 
watchfulness may prevent much mischief now; the 
careless heart not heeding this, is brought within -the 
power of temptation, as the Syrians were brought blind- 
a into the midst of Samaria, before they knew where 
ey were. : 
ie hope that these considerations satisfy my readers that 
it is important to keep the heart with all diligence. I 
roceed, = 
Thirdly, To point out those special seasons in the life 
a a Christian which require our utmost diligence in 
eeping the heart. Though (as was observed before) 
he duty is always binding, and there is no time or con- 
dition of life in which we may be excused from this 
york; yet there are some signal seasons, eritical hours, 
Eouting more than common vigilance over the heart. 
_ 1. The first season is the time of prosperity, when 
Providence smiles upon us. Now, Christian, keep thy 
eart with ail diligence ; for it will be very apt to grow 
secure, proud and earthly. “To see a man humble in 
rosperity,”(says Bernard, ) “is one of the greatest rarities 
the world.” Even a good Hezekiah could not hide 
vain-glorious temper in his temptation; hence that 
aution to Israel: “ And it shall be, when the Lord thy 
d shali have brought thee into the land which he 
ware to thy fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, 
give thee great and gcodly cities which thou buildest 
jot, and houses full of all good things which thou filledst 
t,” &c. “then beware lest thou forget the Lerd.” Sc 
deed it happened: for “ Jeshurun waxed fat and kick- 
How then may a Christian keep his heart from 
ride and carnal security under the smiles of Providence 
and the confluence of creature-comforts 2 
* There are several helps to secure the heart from the 
gerous snares of prosperity. 


K. the Heart. 


' 
26 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


1. Consider the dangerous ensnaring temptations at 
tending a pleasant and prosperous condition. Few, ver 
few of those that live in the pleasures of this world, 
escape everlasting perdition. “It is easier ” (says Christ) 
“for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, t 
for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven; | 
“Not many mighty, not many noble are called.” 

We have great reason to tremble, when the Scrip ure 
tells us in general that few shall be saved; much m 
when it tells us, that of that rank of which wea 
few shall be saved. When Joshua ¢ lall 1 
of Israel to cast lots for the discovery of Achan, dout 
Achan feared; when the tribe of Judah was taken, h 
fear increased ; but when the family of the Zarhites we 
taken, it was time to tremble. So when the Scripture 
come so near as to tell us that of such a class of 
few shall escape, it is time tobealarmed, I 
der” (says Chrysostom) “if any of the rulers be sav 
O how many have been wheeled to hell in the ehe 
of earthly -pleasures; while others have been whipped 
heaven by the rod of affliction ! How few, like the daue I 
ter of Tyre, come to Christ with a gift! How few among 
the rich entreat his favor! She 

2. It may keep one more humble and watchful in p 
perity, to consider that among Christians many have bee 
much the worse for it How good had it been for some 
of them, if they had never known prosperity ! Whe 
they were in a low condition, how humble, spiritual aa 
heavenly they were ! but when advanced, what an ap 
rent alteration has been upon their ! wa 
with Israel; when they were in 
wilderness, then Israel was “In 
when they came into Canaan and 
language was, “ We are lords, 

unto thes.” Outward gains are or 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. | 27 


inward losses; as in alow condition their civil em- 
ployments were wont to have a savor of their religious 
duties, so im an exalted condition their duties com- 
monly have a savor of the world. He, indeed, is rich 
in grace whose graces are not hindered by his riches. 
There are but few Jehosaphats in the world, of whom 
it is said, “He had silver and gold in abundance, and 
his heart was lifted up in the way of God’s com- 
mands.” Will not this keep thy h@rt humble in pros- 
perity, to think how dearly many godly men have 
sald, for their riches; that through them they have 
ost that which all the world cannot purchase 2 

‘ 3. Keep down thy vain heart by this consideration ; 
God values no man the more for these things. God 
values no man by outward excellencies, but by inward 
graces ; they are the internal ornaments of the Spirit, 
which are of great price in God’s sight. God de- 
spises all worldly glory, and accepts no man’s per- 
son; “but in every nation, he that feareth God and 
worketh righteousness is accepted of him.” Indeed, 
{the judgment of God went by the same rule that 
nan’s does, we might value ourselves by these things, 
ind stand upon them: but so much every man is, as 
ae is in the judgment of God. Does thy heart yet 
swell, and will neither of the former considerations 
keep it humble ? 

4. Consider how bitterly many dying persons have 
ewailed their folly in setting their hearts upon these 
hings, and have wished that they had never known 
them. How dreadful was the situation of Pius Quin- 
us, who died crying out despairingly, “ When I was 
a low condition I had some hopes of salvation , 
en I was advanced to be a cardinal, I greatly 
yubted ; but since I came to the popedom I have no 


28 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


. 


hope at all.” An author also tells us a real, but s 
story of a rich oppressor, who had scraped up a grea 
estate for his only son: when he eame to die he 
called his son to him, and said, Son, do you indee 
love me?” The son answered that “ Nature, beside 
his paternal indulgence, obliged him to that.” “The 
(said the father) express it by this: hold thy finger 
in the candle as long as I am saying a prayer.” The 
son attempted, butGcould not endure it. Upon that 
the father broke out into these expressions: “ Thot 
canst not suffer the burning of thy finger for me; but 
to get this wealth I have hazarded my soul for thes, 
and must burn, body and soul, in hell, for thy sake 
thy pains would have been but for a moment, but min 
will be unquenchable fire,” f 
5. The heart may be kept humble by considering 
of what a clogging nature earthly things are to aso i 
heartily engaged in the way to heaven. They shui 
out much of heaven from us at present, though the 
may not shut us out of heaven at last. If thou co 
sider thyself as a stranger in this world, traveling foi 
heaven, thou hast then as much reason to be delighted 
with these things as a weary horse has to be pleased 
with a heavy burden. There was a serious truth in 
the atheistical scoff of Julian» when taking away the 
Christians’ estates, he told them “it was to make 
them more fit for the kingdom of heaven.” 
6. Is thy spirit still vain and lofty? Then ur, 
upon it the consideration of that awful day of recko 
ing, wherein, according to our receipts of merci 
shall be our account for them. Methinks this shou 
awe and humble the vainest heart that ever was in th 
breast of a saint. Knew for a certainty that the Lo 
records all the mercies that ever he gave thee, fr 


© 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 29 


the beginning to the end of thy life. “Remember, 
O my people, from Shittim unto Gilgal,” &c. Yes, 
they are exactly numbered and recorded in order to 
an account ; and thy account will he suitable: “To 
whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be re- 
quired.” You are but a steward, and your Lord will 
come and take an account of you; and what a great 
account have: you to make, who have much of this 
world in your hands! What swift witnesses will 
your mercies be against you, if this be the best fruit 
of them! 5 

_ 7. It is a very humbling reflection, that the mercies 
of God should work otherwise upon my spirit than 
they used to do upon tke spirits of others to whom 
they come as sanctified mercies from the love of God. 
Ah, Lord! what a sad consideration is this! enough 
to lay me in the dust, when I consider : 

 (1.) That their mercies have greatly humbled them , 
the higher God has raised them, the lower they have 
laid themselves before him. Thus did Jacob when | 
God had given him much substance. “And Jacob 
said, I am not worthy of the least of all thy mercies, 
and all the truth which thou hast showed thy servant; 
for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and am 
ow become two bands.” Thus also it was with holy 
David ; when God had confirmed the promise to him, 
o build him a house, and not reject him as he did Saul, 
ne goes in before the Lord and says, “ Who am I, and 
what is my father’s house, that thou hast brought me 
itherto ?” So indeed God required. When Israel 
rought to him the first fruits of Canaan, they were 
osay, “A Syrian ready to perish was my father,” 
Do others raise God the higher for his raising 
em ? and the more God raises me, the more shall I 

; 3x 


30 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


abuse him and exalt myself? O how wicked is such 
conduct as this! i 

(2.) Others have freely ascribed the glory of all their 
enjoyments to God, and magnified not themselves, b 
him, for their mercies. Thus says David, “Let thy 
name be magnified-.and the house of thy servant be) 
established.” He does not fly upon the mercy and 
suck out its sweetness, looking no further than his own) 
comfort: no, he cares for no merey except God be 
magnified in it. So when God had delivered him from 
all his enemies, he says, “ The Lord is my strength) 
and my rock, he is become my salvation.” Saints of 
old did not put the crown upon their own heads as 
do by my vanity. 

(3.) The mercies of God have been melting mercies 
unto others, melting their souls in love to the God ¢ 
their mercies. When Hannah received the mercy of 
a son, she said, “ My soul rejoiceth in the Lord ;” not 
in the mercy, but in the God of the mercy. So also 
Mary: “My soul doth magnify the Lord; my spiri 
rejoiceth in God my Savior.” The word signifies te 
make more room for God; their hearts were not con- 
tracted, but the more enlarged to God. 

(4.) The mercies of God have been great restraint 
to keep others from sin. “Seeing thou, our God, has 
given us such a deliverance as this, should we agai 
break thy commandments?” Ingenuous souls hay 
felt the force of the obligations of love and mere} 
upon them. 

(5.) The mercies of God to others have been as of 
to the wheels of their obedience, and made them more 
fit for service. Now if mercies work contrarily upon 
my heart, what cause have I to be afraid that they come 
not tome in love! It is enough to damp the spirits 


| 
| 
: ON KEEPING THE HEART. 31 


| 
f anv saint, tosee what sweet effects mercies have 


ad upon others, and what bitter effects upon him. 
II. The second season in the life of a Christian, re- 
quiring more than common diligence to keep his heart, 
is the time of adversity. When Providence frowns 
upon you, and blasts your outward comforts, then 
look to your heart; keep it with all diligence from 
repining against God, or fainting under his hand; for 
troubles, though sanctified, are troubles still. Jonan 
was a good man, and yet how fretful was his heart 
under affliction! Job was the mirror of patience, yet 
how was his heart discomposed by troubie! You will 
find it hard to get a composed spirit under great afflic- 
tions. O the hurries and tumults which they occasion 
even in the best hearts !—Let me show you, then, how 
a Christian under great afflictions may keep his heart 
from zepining or desponding, under the hand of God. 
_ I will here offer several helps to keep the heart in 
.. condition. 
1. By these cross providences God is faithfully 
pursuing the great design of electing love upon the 

ouls of his people, and orders all these afflictions as 
means sanctified to ‘that end. Afflictions come not by 
casualty, but by counsel. By this counsel of God they 
are ordained as means of much spiritual good to saints. 
“ By this shall the iniquity of Jacob be purged,” &c. 
if But he for our profit,” &c. “ All things work together 
for good,” &c. They are God’s workmen upon our 
hearts, to pull down the pride and carnal security of 
them ; and being so, their nature is changed ; they are 
‘tumed into blessings and benefits. “It is good for me 
that I have been afflicted,” says David. Surely then 
thou hast no reason to quarrel with God, but rather to 
wonder that he should concern himself'so mech in thy 


32 on KEEPING THE HEART. | 


good as to use any means for accomplishing it. P; 
could bless God if by any means he might attain the 
resurrection of thedead. “My brethren,” says James, 
“count it all joy when you fall into divers tempta- 
tions.” ‘ My Father is about a design of love upon my 
soul, and do I well to be angry with him? All th 
he does is in pursuance of, and in reference to so 
eternal, glorious ends upon my soul. It is my igno- 
rance of God’s design that makes me quarrel with 
him.’ He says to thee in this case, as he did to Peter, 
“What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt 
know hereafter.” / 

2. Though God has reserved to himself a liberty of 
afflicting his people, yet he has tied up his own hands 
by promise never to take away his loving kindness 
from them. Can I contemplate this scripture with a 
repining, discontented spirit: “I will be his Father, 
and he shall be my son: if he commit iniquity, I will 
chasten him with the rod of man, and with the stripes 
of the children of men: nevertheless my mercy shall not 
depart away from him.” O my heart, my haughty 
heart! dost thou well to be discontent, when God has 
given thee the whole tree, with all the clusters of com- 
fort growing on it, because he suffers the wind to blow 
down a few leaves? Christians have two kinds of 
goods, the goods of the throne and the goods of the 
footstool; immoveables and moveables. If God has 
secured those, never let my heart be troubled at the 
loss of these: indeed, if he had cut off his love, or dis- 
covenanted my soul. I had reason to be cast down; 
but this he hath not done, aor can he do it. 

3. It is of great efficacy to keep the heart from sink- 
ing under afflictions, to call to mind that thine own 
Father has the ordering of them. Not acreature moves 


aa 
: 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 33 
hand or tongue against thee but by his permission. 
Suppose the cup be bitter, yet it isthe cup which thy 
Father hath given thee; and canst thou suspect poison 
to be init? Foolish man, put home the case to thine 
own heart; canst thou give thy child that which would 
ruin him? No! thou wouldst as soon hurt thyself as 
lim. “Ifthou then, being evil, knowest how to give 
good gifts to thy children,” how much more does God! 
‘The very consideration of his nature as a God of love, . 
ity, and tender mercies ; or of his relation to thee asa 
7 husband, friend, — be security enough, if he 
had not spoken a ee to quiet thee in this case; and 
t you have his word too, by the prophet Jeremiah: 
*I will do you no hurt.” You lie too near his heart 
or him to hurt you; nothing grieves him more than 
our groundless and unworthy suspicions of nis designs. 
Would it not grieve a faithful, tender-hearted physician, 
when he had studied the case of his patient, and pre- 
pared the most excellent medicines to save his life, to 
gear him ery out, ‘O he has undone me! he has poi- 
soned me? because it pains him in the operation? G 
when will you be ingenuous ? 
_ 4. God respects you as much in a low as in a high 
tondition ; and therefore it need not so much trouble 
ou to be made low; nay, he manifests more of his 
Ove, grace and tenderness in the time of affliction than 
jn the time of prosperity. As God did not at first 
thoose you because you were high, he will not now for- 
jake you because you are low. Men may look shy 
ipon you, and alter their respects as your condition 
/s altered ; when Providence has blasted your estate, 
your summer-friends may grow strange, fearing you 
ay be troublesome to them; but will God do so? 
Xo, no: “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.” 


. | 


34 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
says he. If adversity and poverty could bar you from 
access to God, it were indeed a deplorable condition: 
but, so far from this, you may go to him as freely as 
ever. “My God will hearme,” says the church. Poor 
David, when stripped of all earthly comforts, could en- 
courage himself in the Lord his God; and why cannot 
you? Suppose your husband or son had lost all at 
sea, and should come to you in rags; could you deny 
the relation, or refuse to entertain him? Ifyou would 
not, much less will God. Why then are you so troub- 
led? Though your condition be changed, your Fa- 
ther’s love is not changed. 
5. What if by the loss of outward comforts God 
preserves your soul from the ruining power of tempta- 
tion? Surely then you have little cause to sink your 
heart by such sad thoughts.. Do not earthly enjoy- 
ments make men shrink and warp in times of trial? 
For the love of these many have forsaken Christ in 
such an hour. The young ruler “went away sor 
rowful, for he had great possessions.” If this is God’s 
design, how ungrateful to murmur against him for itt 
We see mariners in a storm can throw over board the 
most valuable goods to preserve their lives. We know 
it is usual for soldiers in a besieged city to destroy the 
finest buildings without the walls in which the enemy 
may take shelter; and no one doubts that it is wisely 
done. Those who have mortified limbs willingly streteh 
them out to be cut off, and not only thank, but pay the 
surgeon. Must God be murmured against for casting 
over that which would sink youin a storm; for pulling 
down that which would assist your enemy in the siege 
of temptation; for cutting off what would endanger 
your everlasting life? O, inconsiderate, ungrateful 
man! are not these things for which thou grievest, the 
very things that have ruined thousands of souls? 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 35 


6. It would much support thy heart under adversity, 
tu consider that God by such humbling providences 
may be accomplishing that for which you have long 
prayed and waited. And shculd you be troubled at 
that? Say, Christian, hast thou not many prayers 
depending before God upon such accounts as these 
that he would keep thee from sin; discover to thee the 
emptiness of the creature; that he would mortify and 
kill thy lusts; that thy heart may never find rest in 
any enjoyment but Christ? By such humbling and 
impoverisning strokes God may be fulfilling thy de- 
sire. Wouldst thou be kept from sin? Lo, he hath 

dged up thy way with thorns. Wouldst thou see the 
creature’s vanity? Thy affliction is a fair glass to dis- 
cover it; for the vanity of the creature is never so ef- 
fectually and sensibly discovered, as in our own expe- 
tience. Wouldst thou have thy corruptions mortified ? 
This is the way: to have the food and fuel removed 
that maintained them; for as prosperity begat and fed 
them, so adversity, when sanctified, is a means to kill 
them. Wouldst thou have thy heart rest no where 
but in the bosom of God? What better method could 
Providence take to accomplish thy desire than pulling 
rom under thy head that soft pillow of creature-de- 
jights on which you rested before? And yet you fret 
at this: peevish child, how dost thou try thy Father’s 
patience! If he delay to answer thy prayers, thou art 
ready to say he regards thee not; if he does that which 
eally answers the end of them, though not in the way 
hich you expect, you murmur against him for that; — 
as if, instead of answering, he were crossing all thy 
Opes and aims, Isthisingenuous? Is it not enough 
hat God is so gracious as to do what thou desirest: 
must thou be so impudent as to expect him to do it in 
the way which thou prescribest ? 


36 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


7. It may support thy heart, to consider that 
these troubles God is performing that work in whi 
thy soul would rejoice, if thou didst see the design 
it. We are clouded with much ignorance, and are 
able to discern how particular providences tend to 
fulfillment of God’s designs; and therefore, like Israe 
in the wilderness, are often murmuring, because Provi- 
dence leads us about in a howling desert, where we are 
exposed to difficulties ; though then he led them, and 
is now leading us, by the right way to a city of habita- 
tions. If you could but see how God in his secre’ 
counsel has exactly laid the whole plan of your salva- 
tion, even to the smallest means and circumstances; 
could you but discern the admirable harmony of divi 
dispensations, their mutual relations, together with 
the general respect they all have to the last end; had 
you liberty to make your own choice, you would, 
of al] conditions in the world, choose that in which you 
now are. Providence is like a curious piece of tapes- 
try made of a thousand shreds, which, single, appear 
useless, but put together, they represent a beautiful his- 
tory to the eye, As God does all things according to t e 
eounsel of his own will, of course this is ordained 4 
the best method to effect your salvation. Such an 
has a proud heart, so many humbling providences J 
appoint for him ; such an one hes an earthly heart, i 
many rapeuereatiins providences for him. Did 


but see this, I need say no more to support the m 
dejected heart. 

8. It would much conduce to the settlement 
your heart, to consider that by fretting and discontel 
you do yourself more injury than all your afflictio 
could do. Your own discontent is that which ar 
your troubles with a sting; you make your burden 

i] 
; 


ON KEEPING TRE HEART. 37 


heavy by struggling under it. Did you but lie quietly 
under the hand of God, your condition would be much 
more easy than it is. ‘ Impatience in the sick occa- 
sions severity in the physician.” -This makes God af- 
flict the more, as a father astubborn child that receives 
not correction. Beside, it unfits the soul to pray over 
ils troubles, or receive the sense of that good which 
God intends by them. Affliction is a pill, which, being 
wrapt up in patience and quiet submission, may be ea- 
ily swallowed ; but discontent chews the pill, and so 
smbitters the soul. God throws away some comfort 
which he saw would hurt you, and you will throw 
iway your peace after it; he shoots an arrow which 
ticks in your clothes, and was never intended to hurt, 
jut only to drive you from sin, and you will thrust it 
leper, to the piercing of your very heart, by despon- 
lency and discontent. 
9. Ifthy heart (like that of Rachel) still refuses 
o be comforted, then do one thing more: compare the 
Ondition thou art now in, and with which thou art so 
auch dissatisfied, with the condition in which others 
re, and in which thou deservest to be. ‘Others are 
oaring in flames, howling under the scourge of ven- 
eance ; and among them I deserve tobe. O my soul! 
this hell? is my condition as bad as that of the damn- 
d2 what would thousands now in hell give to ex- 
ange conditions with me! I have read (says an au- 
er) that when the Duke of Conde had voluntarily 
bjected himself to the inconveniences of poverty, he 
as one day observed and pitied by a lord of Italy, 
rho from tenderness wished him to be more careful 
his person.’ The good duke answered, “ Sir, be not 
ubled, and think not that I suffer from want; for I 


da harbinger before me, who makes ready my 
4 K. the Heart. 


38 ON KEEPING’ THE HEART. 


lodgings and takes care that I be royally entertained” 
The lord asked him who was his harbinger? He an 
swered, “ The knowledge of myself, and the considera 
tion of what I deserve for my sins, which is eterna) 
torment; when with this knowledge I arrive at my 
lodging, however unprovided I find it, methinks -it is 
much better than Ideserve. Why doth the living man 
complain?” Thus.the heart may be kept from de- 
sponding or repining under adversity. - is 

III. The third season ealling for more than ordina- 
ry diligence to:keep the heart is the time of Zion's 
troubles. When the Church, like the ship in which 
Christ-and his disciples were, is oppressed and rea 
to perish in the waves of persecution, then good souls: 
are ready to be shipwrecked too, upon: the billows of 
their own fears. It,is true, most men need the spur 
rather than the reins in this case; yet some men sit 
down discouraged under a sense of the Church’s trou- 
bles.. The loss of the ark cost Eli his life; the sad 
posture in which Jerusalem lay made good Nehemi- 
ah’s countenance change in the midst of all the plea- 
sures and accommodations of the court. But though 
God allows, yea, commands the most awakened appre- 
hensions of. these calamities, and in “ such a day ealls 
to mourning; weeping, and girding with sackcloth” 
and severely threatens the insensible; yet it will not 
please him to see you sit like pensive Elijah under the 
juniper tree. “ Ah, Lord God! it is enough, take away 
my life also.” No: a mourner in Zion you may and 
ought to be, but a self-tormentor you must not be; 
complain to God you may, but complain of God 
(though but by the language of your actions) you 
just not. 

Now let us inquire how tendem liearts may be re- 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 39 


- jieved and supported, when they are even overwhelm- 
ed with the burdensome sense of Zion’s troubles? I 
grant it is hard for him who preferreth Zion to his chief 

_joy, to keep his heart that it sink not below the due 

sense of its troubles; yet this ought to, and may be 

done, by the use of such heart-establishing directions 
as these : 

1. Settle this great truth in your heart, that no trou- 

ble befalls Zion but by the permission of Zion’s God ; 

and he permits nothing out of which he will not ulti- 
mately bring much good to his people. Comfort may 

_be derived from reflections on the permitting as well 

as on the commanding will of God. “ Let him alone, 

it may be God hath bidden him.” “Thou couldst 

/ have no power against me, except it were given thee 

from above.” It should much calm our spirits, that it 
is the will of God to suffer-it ; and that, had he not suf- 

fered it, it could never have been as it is. This very 
consideration quieted Job, Eli, David, and Hezekiah. 

That the Lord did it was enough to them: and why 
| should it not beso to us? If the Lord will have Zion 
ploughed as a field, and her goodly stones lie in the 
dust; if it be his pleasure that Anti-Christ shall rage 

_ yet longer and wear out the saints of the Most High; 

if it be his will that a day of trouble, and of treading 

| down; and of perplexity by the Lord God of Hosts, 

' shall be upon the valley of vision; that the wicked 

| shall devour the man that is more righteous than he; 

' what are we that we should contend with God? It is 

| fit that we should be resigned to that Will whence we 

| proceeded, and that He that made us should dispose of 
| us as he pleases: he may do what seemeth him good 
| without our consent. Doth poor man stand upon 

) equal ground, that he may capitulate with his Creator ; 


7 


49 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


or that God should render him an account of any of 
his matters? That we be content, however God may 
dispose of us, is as reasonable as that we be obedient, 
whatever he may require of us. But if we pursue this 
argument farther, and consider that God’s permissions 
all meet at last in the real good of his people, this will 
much more quiet our spirits. Do the enemies carry 
away the best among the people mto captivity? This 
looks like a distressing providence; but God sends 
them thither for their good. Does God take the Assy- 
rian as a staff in his hand to beat his people with? 
The end of his so doing is, “that he may accomplish 
his whole work upon Mount Zion.” If God can bri 
much good out of the greatest evil of sin, much m 
out of temporal afflictions; and that he will, is as evi- 
dent as that he can do so. For it is inconsistent with 
the wisdom of a common agent to permit any thing 
(which he might prevent if he pleased) to cross his 
great design; and can it be imagined that the most 
wise God should do so? As, then, Luther said to Me- 
lancthon, so say I to you: “ Let infinite wisdom, power 
and love alone ;” for by these all creatures are swayed, 
and all actions guided, in reference to the church. It 
is not our work to rule the world, but to submit to 
Him that does. The motions of Providence are all ju- 
dicious, the wheels are full of eyes: it is enough that 
the affairs of Zion are in a good hand. 

2. Ponder this heart-supporting truth: how many 
troubles soever are upon Zion, yet her King is in her 
What! hath the Lord forsaken his churches? has he 
sold them into the enemy’s hands? Does he not re 
gard what evil befalls them, that our hearts sink thus? 
Is it not shamefully undervaluing the great God, ard 
too much magnifying poor impotent man, to fear and 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 41 


ttemble at creatures while God is in the midst of us? 
The church’s enemies are many and mighty: let that 
be granted, yet that argument with which Caleb and 
Joshua strove to raise their own hearts, is of as much 
force now as it was then: “The Lord is with us, fear 
them not.” A historian tells us, that when Antigonus 
overheard his soldiers reckoning how many their ene- 
thies were; and so discouraging one another, he sud- 
denly stepped in among them with this question, “And 
how many do you reckon me for?’ Discouraged 
souls, how many do you reckon the Lord for? Is he 
not an overmatch for all hisenemies? Is not one Al- 
mighty thore than many mghties? “If God be for 
us, who can be against us?’ What think you was the 
reason of that great examination Gideon made? He 
questions, he desires a sign, and after that, another: 
and what was the end of all this, but that he might be 
sure the Lord was with him, and that he might but 
Write this motto upon his ensign: The stcord of the 
Lord and of Gideon. So if vou can be well assuted 
the Lord is with his people, you will thereby rise above 
all your discouragements: and that he is so, you need 
hot require a sign from heaven ; lo; you have a sign 
before you, even their marvellous preservation amidst 
ell their enemies. If God be not with his people, how 
" it that they are not swallowed up quickly? Do their 
enemies want malice, power, or opportunity ? No, but 
here is afi invisible hand upon them. Let then his 
Bean give us rest; and though the mountains be 
hurled into the sea, though heaven and earth mingle 
together, fear not; God is in the midst of Zion, she 
shall not be ilies. 

| 3. Consider the great advantages attending the peo- 
ple of God in an afflicted condition. If a low and ap 

4* 


. 


® » 4 


42 ON KEEPING THE HEART, 


afflicted state in the world be really best for the chureh; 
then your dejection is not only irrational, but ungrate- 
ful. Indeed if you estimate the happiness of the chureh 
by its worldly ease, splendor and prosperity, then 
times of affliction will appear to be ee 
if you reckon its glory to consist in its humility, 
faith, and heavenly-mindedness, no condition so much 
abounds with advantages for these as an afflicted co 
dition. It was not persecutions and prisons, but wor 
liness and wantonness that poisoned the church: nei- 
ther was it the earthly glory of its professors, but * 
blood of its martyrs that was the seed of the chure 
The power of godliness did never thrive better than in 
affliction, and was never less thriving than in times of 
greatest prosperity : when .“ we are left a poor and an 
afflicted people, then we learn to trust in the name 
the Lord.” It is indeed for the saints’ advantage to be 
weaned from love of, and delight in, ensnaring earth- 
ly vanities; to be quickened and urged forward with 
more haste to heaven; to have clearer discoveries of 
their own hearts; to be taught to pray more fervently, 
frequently, spiritually; to look and long for the rest to 
come more ardently. If these be for their advantage, 
experience teaches us that no condition is.ordinarily 
blessed with such fruits as these, like an afflicted con- 
dition. Is it well then to repine and droop, because 
your Father consults the advantage of your soul ra- 
ther than the gratification of your humors? because 
he will bring you to heaven by a nearer.way than y: 
are willing to go? Is this a due requital of his lo 
who is pleased so much to concern himself in your 
welfare—who does more for you than he will do for 
thousands in the world, upon whom he will not laya 
rod, dispense an affliction to them for their good? But 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 43 


alas! we judge by sense, and reckon things good or 
evil, according to our present taste. 

4. Take heed that you overlook not the many pre- 
sious mercies which the people of God enjoy amidst 
ill their trouble. It isa pity that our tears on account 
of our troubles should so blind our eyes that we should 
10t see our mercies. I will not insist upon the merey — 
having your life given you for a prey; nor upon 
he many outward comforts which you enjoy, even 
ibove what were enjoyed by Christ and his precious 
ervants, of whom the world was not worthy. But 
vhat say you to pardon of sin; interest in Christ; the 
sovenant of promise; and an eternity of hep pines in 
he presence of God, after a few days are over? O 
liat a people entitled to such mercies as these should 
lroop under any temporal affliction, or be so much 
soncerned for the frowns of men and the loss of trifles. 
You have not the smiles of great men, but you have 
he favor of the great God ; you are perhaps diminished 
n temporal, but you are thereby inereased in spiritual 
nd eternal goods. You cannot live so plentifully as 
lefore; but you may live as. heavenly as ever. Will 
Tou avers so much for these circumstances as to for- 
fet your substance? Shall light troubles make you 
prget weighty mercies? Remember the true riches 
Mf the church are laid out of the reach of all enemies. 
Vhat though God do not in his eutward dispensations 
istinguish between his own and others? Yea, what 
hough his judgments single out the best, and spare 
he worst? What though am Abel be killed in love, 
nd a Cain survive in hatred; a bloody Dionysius die 
n his bed, and a good Sistah fall in battle? What 
hough the belly of the wicked be filled with hidden 
reasures, and the teeth of the saints with gravel- 


i 
) 
i] 
i 
i 


44 ON KEEPING THE HEART: 


stones? Still there is much matter of praise; fot elect 
ing love has distinguished, though common providence 
hes not: and while prosperity and impunity slay the 
wicked, even slaying and adversity shall benefit and 
save the righteous: fl 

5. Believe that how low soever the church be plung: 
ed under the waters of adversity, she shall assuredly 
rise again. Fear not; for as surely as Christ on 
the third day, notvrithstareiane the seal and watch 
on him; so surely Zion shall arise out of all her 
tronbles, and lift up her victorious head over all 
enemies. There is no reason to fear the ruin of 
people who thrive by their losses and multiply by be- 
ing diminished. Be not too hasty to bury the churek 
before she is dead ; stay till Christ has tried his skill) 
before you give her up for lost. The bush may be alt 
in a flame, but shall never be consumed ; and that be- 
eause of the good will of Him that dwelleth in it. 

6. Remember the instances of God’s care and ten- 
derness over his people in former difficuities. For 
above eighteen hundred years the Christian chureh 
has been: in affliction, and yet it is not consumed; 
many a wave of persecution has gone over it, yet it is 
not drowned ; many devices have been formed against 
it, hitherto none of them has prospered. -This is not 
the first time that Hamans and Ahithophels have 
plotted its ruin ; that a Herod has stretched out his 
hand to vex it; still it has been. preserved from, sup- 
ported under, ot delivered ont of all its troubles, Is it 
not as dear to’ God as ever? Is he not as able to save 
it now as formerly? Though we know not whence 
deliverance should arise, “ yet the Lord knoweth how 
to deliver the godly out of temptations.” 

7. If yow ean derive no: comfort from any of these 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 45 


vonsiderations, try to draw some out of your very 
rouble. Surely this trouble of yours is a good evi- 
lence of your integrity. Union is the ground of sym- 
yathy : if you had not some rich adventure in that 
hip, you would not tremble as you do when it is in 
langer. Beside this frame of spirit may afford you 
his consolation, that if you are so sensible of Zion’s 
rouble, Jesus Christ is much more sensible of and so- 
icitous about it than you can be; and he will have an 
ye of favor upon them that mourn for it. 

IV. The fourth season, requiring our utmost dil:- 
fence to keep our hearts, is the time of danger and 
jublic distraction. In such times the best hearts are 
00 apt to be surprised by slavish fear. If Syria be 
onfederate with Ephraim, how do the hearts of the 
touse of David shake, even as the trees of the woud 
ynich are shaken with the wind. When there are omi- 
ous signs in the heavens, or the distress of nations 
7ith perplexity, the sea and the waves roaring; then 
ae hearts of men fail for fear, and for looking after 
rose things which are coming on the earth. Evena 
‘aul may sometimes complain of “ fightings within, 
rhen there are fears without.” 

But, my brethren, these things ought not so to he; 
aints should be of a more elevated spirit ; so was David 
mhen his heart was kept in a good frame: “The 

jord ismy light and my salvation; whomshall I fear? 
re Lord is the strength of my nies of whom shall I 

afraid?” Let none but the servants of sin be the 
_ of fear; let them that have delighted in evil fear 
vil. Let not that which God has threatened as a 
idgment upon the wicked, ever seize upon the hearts 

[the righteous. “TI will send faintness into their 
parts in the land of their enemies, and the sound of 


% 


a shaking leaf shall chase them.” What poor spint 
ed men are those, to fly at a shaking leaf! A les 
makes a pleasant, not a terrible noise ; it makes indee 
a kind of natural musie: but to a guilty conscienes 
even the whistling leaves are drums and trumpets’ 
“ But God has not given us the spirit of fear, but 0 
love and of a sound mind.” A sownd mind, as i 
stands there in opposition to fear, is an unwou 
conscience not weakened by guilt: and this sh 
make a man as bold as a lion. I know it cai 

said of a saint, as God -said of leviathan, that he i 
made without fear; there is a natural fear ia 


46 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


man, and it is as impossible to remove it wholly, a 
remove the body itself.. Fear is perturbation of 
mind, arising from the apprehension of approi 
danger ; and as long as dangers can approach us, W 
shall find some perturbations within us. It is not my 
purpose to commend to you a stoical apathy, nor yeti 
dissuade you from such a degree of cautionary 
ventive fear as may fit you for trouble and be servi 
able to your -soul. There is a provident fear tha 
opens our eyes to foresee danger, and quiekens us tt 
a prudent and lawful use of means to prevent it: suel 
was Jacob’s fear, and such his prudence when ect 
ing to meet his angry brother Esau. But it is thai 
of diffidence,; from which I would persuade you t 
keep your heart; that tyrannical passion whieh in 
the heart in times of danger, distracts, weakens 4 
unfits it for duty, drives men upon unlawful meaii 
and brings a snare with it. ‘le 
Now let us inquire how a Christian may keep hi 
heart from distracting and tormenting fears in tim 
of great and threatening dangers. There are sever 
excellent rules for keeping the heart from inf 
when imminent dangers threaten us. 


ON KEEPING THE HEART, 47 


. 1. Look upon all creatures as in the hand of God, 
who manages them in all their motions, limiting, re- 
straining and determining them at his pleasure. Get 
this great truth well settled by faith in your heart, and 
it will-guard you against slavish fears. The first 
chapter of Ezekiel contains an admirable draught of 
Proyidence: there you see the living creatures who 
move the wheels (that is, the great revolutions of things 
here below) coming unto Christ, who sits upon the 
shrone, to receive new instructions from him. In 
Revelations, 6th chapter, you read of white, black, and 
‘ed horses, which are but the instruments God employs 
n executing judgments in the world, as wars, pesti- 
ence, and death. When these horses are prancing and 
trampling up and down in the world, here is a con- 
jideration that may quiet our hearts; God has the 
eins in: his hand. Wicked men are sometimes like 
nad horses, they would stamp the people of God un- 
\er,their feet, but that the bridle of Providence is in 
heir mouths. A lion at liberty is terrible to meet, but 
vho is afraid of alion in the keeper’s hand 2 

2. Remember that this God in whose hand are all 
reatures, is your Father, and is much more tender of 
( < ayes tc 

ou than you are, or can be, of yourself. “He that 
ucheth you, toucheth the apple of mine eye.” Let 
ne ask the most timorous woman whether there be 
lot a great difference between the sight of a drawn 
vord in the hand of a bloody ruffian, and of the same 
a in the hand of her own tender husband? As 
reat a difference there is between looking upon crea- 
ires by an eye of sense, and looking on them, as in 
he hand of your God, by aneyeof faith. Isaiah, 54: 5, 
here very appropriate: “Thy Maker is thine hus- 
nd, the Lard of hosts is his name ;” he is Lord of all. 


‘ 
43 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


the hosts of creatures. Who would be afraid to pass 
through an army, though all the soldiers should turn 
their swords and guns toward him, if the commander 
of that army were his friend or father? A religious 
young man being at sea with many other passengers in 
a great storm, and they being half dead with fear, he 
only was observed to be very cheerful, as if he were 
but little concerned in that danger: one of them de- 
manding the reason of his cheerfulness, “ O,” said he, 
“it is because the pilot of the ship is my Father!” 
Consider Christ first as the King and supreme Lord 
over the providential kingdom, and then as your head, 
husband and friend, and you will quickly say, “ Re- 
turn unto thy rest, O my soul.” This truth will make 
you cease trembling, and cause you to sing in the 
midst of danger, “The Lord is King of all the earth, 
sing ye praise with understanding.” ‘That is, ‘Let 
every one that has understanding of this heart-reviy- 
ing and establishing doctrine of the dominion of our 
Father over all creatures, sing praise.’ 

3. Urge upon your heart the express prohibitions of 
Christ in this case, and Jet your heart stand in awe of 
the violation of them. He hath charged you not to 
fear: “ When we shall hear of wars and commotions, 
see that ye be not terrified.” “In nothing be terrified 
by your adversaries.” In Matthew, 10th, and within the 
compass of six verses, our Savior commands us thrice, 
“not to fear man.” Does the voice of a man ma 
thee to tremble, and shall not the voice of God? 
thou art of such a timorous spirit, how is it that th 
fearest notto discbey the commands of Jesus Chri 
Methinks the command of Christ should have as mu 
power to calm, as the voice of a poor worm to terrify 
thy heart. “J, even J, am he that comforteth you: 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 49 


who art thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of a man 
that shali die, and of the son of man that shall be made 
as the grass, and forgettest the Lord thy Maker 2?” 
‘We cannot fear creatures sinfully till we have forgot- 
ten God: did we remember what he is, and what he 
has said, we should not be of such {feeble spirits. 
Bring thyself then te this reflection in times of danger : 
‘Sf I let into my heart the slavish fear of man, I'must 
Tet out the reverential awe and fear of God; and dare 
I cast off the fear of the Almighty for the es ofa 
man ? shall I lift up proud dust above the great God ? 
‘shall I run upon a certain sin, to shun a probable 
danger ?—O keep thy heart by this consideration ! 

_ 4. Remember how much needless trouble your vain 
fears have brought upon you formerly: “And hast 
feared continually because of the oppressor, as if he 
were ready to devour; and where is the fury of the 
‘oppressor 2 ?” He seemed ready to devour, yet you are 
net devoured, I have not brought upon you the thing 
that you feared ; you have wasted your spirit, disor- 
dered your soul, and weakened your hands to no pur- 
pose: you might have all this while enjoyed your 
peace, and possessed your soul in patience. And here 
I cannot but observe a very deep policy of Satan in 
managing a design against the soul by these vain fears. 
T call them vain, with reference to the frustration of 
them by Providence; but certainly they are not.in 
vain as the end at which Satan aims in raising them; 
or herein he acts as soldiers do in the siege of a gar- 
rison, who to wear out the besieged by constant 
atchings, and thereby unfit them to make resistance 
hen they storm it in earnest, every night rouse them 
ith false alarms, which though they come to nothing, 
et remarkably answer the ultimate design of the 

5 K. the Heart. 


60 ON KEEPING THE HEART 


enemy.—O when will you beware of Satan’s devices ? 

5. Consider solemnly, that though the things you 
fear should really happen, yet there is more evil in 
your own fear than in the things feared: and that, 
not only as the least evil of sin is worse than the 
greatest evil of suffering ; but as this sinful fear has 
really more trouble in it than there is in that condition 
of which you are so much afraid. Fear is both a mul 
tiplying and a tormenting passion; it represents 
troubles as much greater than they are, and so tor 
tures the soul much more than the suffering itself. 
it was with Israel at the Red Sea; they cried out and 
were afraid, till they stepped into the water, and then 
a passage was opened through those waters which 
they thought would have drowned them. Thus it is 
with us; we, looking through the glass of carnal fear 
upon the waters of trouble, the swellings of Jordan, 
cry out, ‘O they are unfordable; we must perish in 
them !’ But when we come into the midst of those 
floods indeed, we find the promise made good: “ God 
will make a way to escape.” Thus it was with a bles 
ed martyr; when he would make a trial by putting his 
finger to the candle, and found himself not able to 
dure that, he cried out, “‘ What! cannot I bear 
burning ofa finger? How then shall I be able to 
the burning of my whole body to-morrow?” Y 
when that morrow came he could go cheerfully into 
the flames with this scripture in his mouth: “ Fear 
not, for I have redeemed thee; I have called thee by 
ihy- name, thou art mine; when thou passest through 
the waters I will be = you; when thou walkest 
through the fire thou shalt not be burnt.” 

6. Consult the many precious promises which are 
written for your support and comfort in all dangers, 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 51 


These are your refuges to which you may fly and be 

safe when the arrows of danger fly by night, and de- 

struction wasteth at noon-day. There are particular 
_ promises suited to particular cases and exigencies; 
there are also general promises reaching all cases and 
conditions. Such as these: “ All things shall work to- 
gether for good,” &c. “Though a sinner do evil an 

hundred times and his days be prolonged, yet it 
shall be well with them that fear the Lord,” &c. Could 
you but believe the promises your heart should be 
established. Could you but plead them with God as 
_ Facob did, (“ Thou saidst, I will surely do thee good,” 
&c.) they would relieve you in every distress. 

7. Quiet your trembling heart by recording and con- 
sulting your past experiences of the care and faithful- 
_ness of God in former distresses. These experiences 
are food for your faith in a wilderness, By this Da- 
vid kept his heart in time of danger, and Paul his. It 
_ was answered by a saint, when one told him that his 
_ enemies waylaid him to take his life: “If God take 
_ho care of me, how is it that I have escaped hitherto 2” 
You may plead with God old experiences for new 
ones: for it is in pleading with God for new deliver- 
anees, as it is in pleading for new pardons. Mark 
| how Moses pleads of that account with God. “Pardon, 
| I beseech thee, the iniquity of this people, as thou hast 
| forgiven them from Egypt until now.” He does not 
/say as men do, ‘Lord, this is the first fautt, thou hast 
| not been troubled before to sign their pardon: but, 
| ‘Lord, because thou hast pardoned them so often, I 
| beseech thee pardon them once again.” So in new 
| difficulties let the saint say, ‘Lord, thou hast often 
| heard, helped and saved, in former years; therefore 
| now help again, for with thee there is plenteous re- 
| demption. and thine arm is not shortened.’ 


52 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


8. Be well satisfied that you are in the way of your 
duty, and that will beget holy courage in times of 
danger. “Who will harm you if you be a follower 
of that which is good?” Or if any dare attempt to 
harm you “you may boldly commit yourself to God 
in well-doing.” Jt was this consideration that raised 
Luther’s spirit above all fear: “In the cause of God 
(said he) I ever am, and ever shall be stout: herein I 
assume this title, “I yield to none.” A good cause 
will bear up a man’s spirit. Hear the saying of a hea- 
then, to the shame of cowardly Christians: when the 
emperor Vespasian had commanded Fluidus Priseus 
not to come to the senate, or if he did come, to speak 
nothing but what he would have him; the senator re- 
turned this noble answer, “that he was a senator, it 
was fit he should be at the senate; and if being there, 
he were required to give his advice, he would freely 
speak that which his conscience commanded him.” 
The emperor threatening that then he should die; he 
answered, “Did I ever tell you that I was immortal? 
Do what you wiil, and I will do what I ought. It is in 
your power to put me to death unjustly, and in my 
power to die with constancy.” Righteousness is a 
breastplate: let them tremble whom danger finds out 
of the way of duty. 

9. Get your conscience sprinkled with the blood of ~ 
Christ from all guilt, and that will set your heart above 
all fear. It is guilt upon the conscience that softens 
and makes cowards of our spirits: “the righteous are 
bold as a lion.” It was guilt in Cain’s conscience that 
made him cry, “Every one that findeth me will slay 
me.” A guilty conscience is more terrified by ima- — 
gined dangers, than a pure conscience is by real ones. 
A guilty sinner carries a witness against himself in 


ON KEEPING THE HEERT. ~ 59 


his own bosom. It was guilty Herod cried out, “John 
_ Baptist is risen frony the dead.” Such a conscience is 

the devil’s anvil, on which he fabricates all these 

swords and spears with which the guilty sinner pierc- 
es himself. Guilt is to danger, what fire is to gun~ 
| powder: aman need not fear to walk among many 
barrels of powder, if he have no fire about him. 
10. Exercise holy trust in times of great distress, 
_ Make it your business to trust God with your life and 
comforts, and then your heart will be at rest about 
them. So did David, “At what timeI am afraid I wilh 
trust in thee;” that is, ‘Lord, if at any time a storm 
_ arise, I will shelter from it under the covert of thy 
wings” Goto God by acts of faith and trust, and ne- 
ver doubt that he will secure you. “Thow wilt keep 
_himin perfeet peace whose mind is stayed on thee, 
because he trusteth in thee,” says Isaiah. God is 
| pleased when you come to him thus: ‘ Father, my life, 
| my liberty and my estate are exposed, and F cannot 
secure them; O let me leave them in thy hand. The 
| poor leaveth himself with thee ; and does his God fail 
him? No, thou art the helper of the fatherless: that is, 
| thou art the helper of the destitute one, that has none 
' to'go’to but God. This is a comforting passage, “He 
shail not be afraid of evil tidings; his heart is fixed, 
trusting in the Lord;” he does not say, his ear shalb 
be preserved from the report of evil tidings, he may 
hear as sad tidings as other men, but his heart shal 
be kept from: the terror of those tidings; his heart is 
fixed. 

11. Consult the honor of religion more, and your 
| personal safety less: Is it for the honor of religion 
(think you) that Christians should be as timorous as 
hares to start at every sound’? Will not this tempt the 

: 5" 


| 


54 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


world to think, that whatever you talk, yet your prin- 
ciples are no better than other men’s? What mis- 
chief may the discovery of your fears before them 
do! It was nobly said by Nehemiah, “Should suche 
man as I flee? and who, being as I am, would flee?” 
Were it not better you shoutd die than that the world 
should be prejudiced against Christ by your exampie? 
For alas! how apt is the world (who judge more by 
what they sce in your practices than by what they 
understand of your principles) to conclude from your 
timidity, that how much soever you commend faith 
and talk of assuranee, yet you dare trust to those 
things no more than they, when it comes to the trial. 
O let not your fears lay such a stumbling-block before 
the blind world. 

12. He that would secure his heart from fear, must 
first secure the eternal interest of his soul in the hands 
of Jesus Christ. When this is done, you may say, 
‘Now, world, do thy worst!’ You will not be very 30- 
licitous about a vile body, when you are once assured 
it shall be well to all eternity with your precious soul, 
“Fear not them (says Christ) that can kill the body, 
and after that have no more that they can do.” ‘The 
assured Christian may smile with contempt wpon all 
his enemies, and say, ‘Is this the worst that you can 
do? What say you, Christian? Are you assured 
that your soul is safe; that within a few moments of 
your dissolution it shall be received by Christ into ar 
everlasting habitation? If you be sure of that, never 
trouble yourself about the instrument and means of 
your death. 

13. Learn to quench all slavish creature-fears in the 
reverential fear of God. This is a cure by diversiony 
It is' am exercise of Christian wisdom to turn those 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 55 


passions of the soul which most predominate, into 
spiritual channels: to turn natural anger into spiritual 
zeal, natural mirth into holy cheerfulness, and natural 

fear into a holy dread and awe of God. This method 
_ of cure Christ prescribes in the 10th of Matthew; 
similar to which is Isaiah, 8: 12,13, “Fear not their 
fear.” ‘But how shall we help it? “Sanctify the 
Lord of hosts himself; and let him be your fear, and 
let him be your dread.” Natural fear may be allayed 
for the present by natural reason, or the removal of 
the occasion; but then it is like a candie blown out by 
a puff of breath, which is easily blown in again: but 
if the fear of God extinguish it, then it is like a candle 
quenched in water, which cannot easily be rekindled. 

14. Pour out to God in prayer those fears which 
the devil and your own unbelief pour in upon you in 
- times of danger. Prayer is the best outlet to fear: 
where is the Christian that cannot set his seal to this 
direction? I will give you the greatest example to’ 
encourage you to compliance, even the example of Je- 
sus Christ. When the hour of his danger and death 
drew nigh, he went into the garden, separated from 
his disciples, and there wrestled mightily with God in 
prayer, even unto agony; in reference to which the 
apostle says, “who in the days of his flesh, when he 
had offered up prayers and supplications, with strong 
cries and tears, to him that was able to save from 
| death, and was heard in that he feared.” He was 
heard as to strengti and support tocarry him through 
it; though not as to deliverance, or exemption from it. 
| O ‘hat these things may abide with you, and be re- 
| duced to practice in these evil days, and that many 
trembling souls may be established by them. 

V. The fifth season, requiring diligence in keeping 


56 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


the heart, is the time of owlward wants. Although ab 
such times we should complain to God, not of God, (the 
throne of grace being erected for a “ time of need,”)} 
yet when the waters of relief run low, and want begins 
to press, how prone are the best hearts te-distrust the 
fountain! When the meal in the barrel and the oil in 
the cruse are almost spent, our faith and patience too 
are almost spent. It is now diffieult to keep the proud 
and unbelieving heart in a holy quietude and sweet 
submission at the foot of God. It is an easy thing to 
talk of trusting God for daily bread, while we have a 
full barn or purse; but to say as the prophet, “ Though 
the fig-tree should not blossom, neither fruit be in the 
vine, &c. yet will I rejoice in the Lord;” surely this 
is not easy. 

Would you know then how : a Christian may keep 
his heart from distrusting God, or repining against him, 
when outward wants are either felt or feared ?—The 
ease deserves to be seriously considered, especially 
now, since i: seems to be the design of Plogidéuce to 
empty the peopie of God: of their ereature ih then i 


acquaint them with those difficulties'to which hithe | 
they have been altogether strangers: To seeure the 
heart from the dangers’ attending this condition,. these 
considerations may, through the | blessing of the Spi 
prove effectual. 

1. If God reduces you to necessities, he therein 
deals no otherwise with yeu than he has done with 
some of the holiest men that ever’ lived. Your con- 
dition is not singular’; though you have hitherto been 
a stranger to want, other saints have been familiarly 
acquainted with it. Hear what Paul says, not of him- 
self only, but in the name’ of other saints: reduced to | 
hike exigencies: “Even to the present hour, we both 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 57 


hunger and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and 
have no certain dwelling-place.” To see such a man 
as Paul going up and down the world naked, and hun- 
gry, and houseless; one that was so far above thee 
in grace and holiness; one that did more service for 
| God in a day than perhaps thou hast done in all thy 
_ days may well put an end to your repining. Have 
you forgotten how much even a David has suffered 
_ How great were his difficulties! “ Give, I pray thee,” 
says he to Nabal, ‘‘ whatsoever cometh to thy hand, to 
thy servants, and to thy son David.” But why speak 
_lTofthese? Behold a greater than any of them, even 
_ the Son of God, who is the heir of all things, and by 
whom the worlds were made, sometimes would have 
| been glad of any thing, having nothing to eat. “ And 
_ on the morrow, when they were come from Bethany, 
_he was hungry; and seeing a fig-tree afar off, having 
leaves, he came, if haply he might find any thing 
thereon.” 

_ Hereby then God has set no mark of hatred upon 
you, neither can you infer want of love from want of 
bread. When thy repining heart puts the question, 
‘Was there ever sorrow like unto mine? ask these 
worthies, and they will tell thee that though they did 
not complain as thou dost, yet their condition was as 
Necessitous as thine is. 

2. If God leave you not in this condition without a 
promise, you have no reason to repine or despond un- 
der it. That isa sad condition indeed to which no pro- 
mise belongs. Calvin in his comment on Isaiah, 9: 1, 
explains in what sense the darkness of the captivity 
Was not so great as that of the lesser incursions made 
by Tiglath Pileser. In the captivity, the city was 
destroyed and the temple burnt with fire: there was 


58 ON KEEPING THE HEART, 


no comparison in the affliction, yet the darkness was 
not so great, because, says he, “there was a certain 
promise made in this case, but none in the other.” It 
is better to be as low as hell with a promise, than to be 
in paradise without one. Even the darkness of hell 
itself would be no darkness comparatively at all, were 
there but a promise to enlighten it. Now; God has 
left many sweet promises for the faith of his poor peo- 
ple to live upon in this condition ; such as these: “O 
fear the Lord, ye his saints, for there is no want to 
them that fear him; the lions do lack and suffer hun- 
ger, but they that fear the Lord shall not want any 
good thing.” “The eye of the Lord is upon the 
righteous to keep them alive in famine.” “No good 
thing will he withhold from them that walk upright- 
ly.” “ He that spared not his own Son, but delivered 
him up for us all, how shall he not with him also 
freely give us all things?” ‘“ When the poor and the 
needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue 
faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God 
of Israel will not forsake them.” Here you see their 
extreme wants, water being put for their necessaries 
of life; and their certain relief, “Ithe Lord will hear 
them ;” in which it is supposed that they cry unto him 
in their distress, and he hears their cry. Having 
therefore these promises, why should not your dis- 
trustful heart conclude like David’s, “The Lord is-my 
shepherd, I shall not want?” 

‘But these promises imply conditions: if they were 
absolute, they would afford more satisfaction.’ What 
are these tacit conditions of whieh you speak but 
these, that he will either supply or sanctify your 
wants ; that you shall have so much as God sees fit for 
you? And does this trouble you? Would you have 


ON KEEPING THE HEART 59 


| the mercy, whether sanctified or not 2 whether God 
| sees it fitfor youornot? The appetites of saints af- 
_| ter earthly things should not be so ravenous as to 
_ seize greedily upon any enjoyment without regarding 
| circumstances. 
* But when wants press, and I see not whence sup- © 
_| plies should come, my faith in the promise shakes, and 
__ I, like murmuring Israel, ery, “ He gave bread, can he 
_ give water also?” O unbelieving heart! when did 
his promises fail? who ever trusted them and was 
ashamed? May not God upbraid thee with thine unrea- 
| sonable infidelity, as in Jer. 2: 31, “Have I been a 
| wilderness unto you?” or as Christ said to his disci- 
i ples, “Since I was with you, lacked ye any thing ?” 
| Yea, may you not upbraid yourself ; may you not 
| Say with good old Polycarp, “ These many years I 
“have served Christ, and found him a good Master 2” 
Indeed he may deny what your wantonness, but not 
) what your want calls for. He will not regard the cry 
of your lusts, nor yet despise the ery of your faith : 
‘though he will not indulge your wanton appetites, yet 
| he will not violate his own faithful promises. «These 
‘promises are your best security for eternal life; and 
it is strange they should not satisfy you for daily 
| bread. Remember the words of the Lord, and solace 
‘your heart with them amidst all your wants. It is said 
‘of Epicurus, that in dreadful paroxysms of the cholic 
he often refreshed himself by calling to mind his in- 
Ventions in philosophy; and of Possodonius the phi- 
| losopher, that in an acute disorder he solaced himself 
‘with discourses on moral virtue ; and when distress- 
ed, he would say, “ O pain, thou dost nothing ; though 
thou art a little troublesome, I will never confess thee 


60 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


support themselves under such racking pains, and 
even deluded their diseases by them; how much ra- 
ther should the promises of God, and the sweet expe- 
riences which have gone along step by step with them, 
make you forget all your wants, and comfort you in 
every difficulty 2 

3. If it be bad now, it might have been worse. 
Has God denied thee the comforts of this life? He 
might have denied thee Christ, peace, and pardon also 5 
and then thy case had been woful indeed. 

You know God has done so to millions. How many 
such wretched objects may your eyes behold every 
day, that have no comfort in hand, nor yet in hope; 
that are miserable here, and will be so to eternity; 
that have a bitter cup, and nothing to sweeten it—no, 
not so much as any hope that it will be better. But 
it is not so with you: though you he poor in this 
world, yet you are “rich in faith, and an heir of the 
kingdom which God has promised.” Learn to set 
spiritual riches over against temporal poverty. Ba- 
lance all your present troubles with your spiritual 
privileges. Indeed if God has denied your soul the 
robe of righteousness to clothe it, the hidden manna to 
feed it, the heavenly mansion to receive it, you might 
well be pensive; but the consideration that he has not 
may administer comfort under any outward distress. 
When Luther began to be pressed by want, he said, 
“ Let us be contented with our hard fare; for do not 
we feast upon Christ, the bread of life?” “ Blessed be 
God (said Paul) who hath abounded to us in all spiri- 
tual blessings.” 

4. Though this affliction be great, God has f 
greater, with which he chastises the dearly beloved 
his soul in this world. Should he remove this and 


—_—e 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 61 


Inflict those, you would account your present state a 
very comfortable one, and bless God to be as you now 
are. Should God remove your pr2sent troubles, sup- 
ply all your outward wants, give you the desire of 
your heart in creature-comforts; but hide his face 
from you, shoot his arrows into your soul, and cause 
the venom of them to drink up your spirit: should 
he leave you but a few days to the bufietings of Sa- 
tan; should he hold your eyes but a few nights waking 
with horrors of conscience, tossing to and fro till the 
‘dawning of the day :—should he lead you through the 
chambers of death, show you the visions of darkness, 
and make his terrors set themselves in array against 


‘you: then tell me if you would not think it a great 
mercy to be back again in your former neeessitous 
‘condition, with peace of conscience; and account 
bread and water, with God’s favor, a happy state? 
O then take heed of repining. Say not that God 
deals hardly with you, lest you provoke him to con- 
‘vince you by your own sense that he has worse rods 
/than these for unsubmissive and froward children. 

5. If it be bad now, it will be better shortly. Keep 
‘thy heart by this consideration, ‘ the meal in the bar- 
‘rel is almost spent; well, be it so, why should that 
trouble me, if lam almost beyond the need and use of 
‘these things? The traveler has spent almost all his 
‘money ; ‘ well,’ says he, ‘ though my money be almost 
spent, my journey is almost finished too: Jam near 
‘home, and shall soon be fully supplied.’ If there be 
no candles in the house, it is a comfort to think that it 
jis almost day, and then there will be no need of them. 
|] am afraid, Christian, you misreckon when you think 
|your provision is almost spent, and you have a great 
| way to travel, many vears to live and nothing to live 
| 6 K. the Heart 


| 


, 4 


62 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


upon ; it may be not half so many as you supp 
In this be confident, if your provision be spent, eit 
fresh supplies are coming, though you see not when e 
or you are nearer your journey’s end than you reck- 
on yourself to be. Desponding soul, does it be- 
come a man traveling upon the road to that heaven 
city, and almost arrived there, within a few days? 
journey of his Father’s house, where all his wants 
shall be supplied, to be so anxious about a little me 
or drink, or clothes, which he fears he shall want 
the way? It was nobly said by the forty mart 
when turned out naked in a frosty night to be starv: 
to death, “ The winter indeed is sharp and cold, b 
heaven is warm and comfortable; here we dhived for 
cold, but Abraham’s bosom will er ainends for all 
‘But,’ says the desponding soul, ‘I may die fo 
want.’ Who ever did so?’ When were the righteous 
forsaken ? If indeed it be so, your journey is “7 
and you fully supplied. 
‘ But I am not sure of that ; were I sure of heave : 
it would be another matter, Are you not sure 
that ? then you have other matters to trouble seal 
about than these ; methinks these should be the least 
of all your cares. I do not find that souls perplexed 
about the want of Christ, pardon of sin, &c. are usually 
very solicitous about these things. Fie that seriously 
puts such questions as these, ‘ What shall I do te 
be saved? how shall I know my sin is pardoned? 
does not trouble himself with, “ What shall I eat, what 
shall I drink, or wherewithal shall I be clothed ” 
6. Does it become the children of such a Father to 
distrust his ail-sufficiency, or repine at any of his dit 
pensations? Do you well to question his care and 
love upon every new exigency ? Say, have you né 


a a 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 63 


formerly been ashamed of this? Has not your Fa- 
_ther’s seasonable provision for you in former difficul- 
_ties put you to the blush, and made you resolve never 
more to question his love and care? And yet will 
you again renew your unworthy suspicions of him ? 
Disingenuous child! reason thus with yourself: “If I 
perish for want of what is good and needful for me, 
it must be either because my Father knows not my 
wants, or has not wherewith to supply them, or re 
_gards not what becomes of me. Which of these shall 
I charge upon him? Not the first: for my Father 
knows what I have need of. Not the second: for the 
earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof; his name 
is God All-sufficient. Not the last: for as a Father 
| pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear 
him ; the Lord is exceeding pitiful and of tender mer- 
cy; oe hears the young ravens when they cry:—and 
will he not hear me? Consider, says Christ, the fowls 
of the air; not the fowls at the door, that are fed every 
day by hand, but the fowls of the air that have none to 
provide for them. Does he feed and clothe his ene- 
mies, and will he forget his children ? he heard even 
the cry of Ishmael in distress. O my unbelieving 
heart, dost thou yet doubt ?” 
7. Your poverty is not your sin, but your affliction. 
a you have not by sinful means brought it upon your- 
self, and if it be but an affliction, it may the more easily 
‘be borne. It is hard indeed to bear an affliction eom- 
ing upon us as the fruit and punishment of sin. 
When men are under trouble upon that account; 
jthey say, ‘O if it were but a single affliction, coming 
from the hand of God by way of trial, I could bear it; 
‘but I have brought it upon myself by sin, it comes as 
ithe punishment of sin; the marks of God’s displeasure 


64 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


are upon it: itis the guilt within that troubles and galls 
more than the want without” But it is not so here; 
therefore you have no reason to be cast down under it. 
‘But though there be no sting of guilt, yet this con- 
dition wants not other stings; as, for instance, the di 
credit of religion. I cannot comply with my enga 
ments in the world, and thereby religion is likely to 
suffer.’ It is well you have a heart to discharge ever 
duty; yet if God disable you by providence, it is ni 
discredit to your profession that you do not that whi 
you cannot do, so long as it is your desire and ende: 
vor to do what you can and ought to do; and in this 
case God’s will is, that lenity and forbeararice be exer- 


cised toward you. 
‘But it grieves me to behold the necessities of oh 
whom I was wont to relieve and refresh, but now can 
not.’ If you cannot, it ceases to be your duty, 7 
God accepts the drawing out of your soul to the hu 
gry in compassion and desire to help them, though yon 
cannot draw forth a full purse to relieve and soppy 
them. 

‘But I find such a condition full of temptations, a 
great hinderance in the way to heaven.’ Every condi 
tion in the world has its hinderances and attendi 
temptations; and were you in a prosperous condition, 
you might there meet with more temptations and 
fewer advantages than you now have; for though 1 
confess poverty as well as prosperity has its tempta- 
tions, yet I am confident prosperity has not those ad- 
vantages that poverty has. Here you have an oppor 
tunity to discover the sincerity of your love to God, 
when you can live upon him, find enough in him, a 
constantly follow him, even when all external indu 
iments and motives fail. 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 65 


. Thus I have shown you how to keep your heart 
‘from the temptations and dangers attending a low con- 
‘dition in the world. When want oppresses and the 
heart begins to sink, then improve, and bless God for 
these helps to keep it. 

VI. The sixth season requiring this diligence in 

keeping the heart, is the season of duty. Our hearts 
must be closely watched and kept when we draw 
nigh to God in public, private, or secret duties; for 
the vanity of the heart seldom discovers itself more 
than at such times. How often does the poor soul 
ery out, ‘O Lord, how gladly would I serve thee, but 
yain thoughts will not let me: I come to open my 
heart to thee, to delight my soul in communion with 
‘thee, but my corruptions oppose me: Lord, call off 
these vain thoughts, and suffer them not to prostitute 
‘the soul that is espoused to thee.’ 
_ The question then is this; How may the heart be 
kept from distractions by vain thoughts in time of du- 
ty? There is a two-fold distraction, or wandering of 
the heart in duty: First, voluntary and habitual, 
i They set not their hearts aright, and their spirit 
‘was not steadfast with God.” This is the case of for- 
‘malists, and it proceeds from the want of a holy in- 
‘elination of the heart to God ; their hearts are under 
the power of their lusts, and therefore it is no won- 
der that they go after their lusts, even when they are 
jabout holy things. Secondly, involuntary and Jament- 
‘ed distractions: “I find then a law, that when I would 
do good, evil is present with me; O wretched man 
‘that Tam,” &c. This proceeds not from the want of 
aholy inclination or aim, but from the weakness of 
‘grace and the want of vigilance in opposing in-dwell- 
‘ing sin. But it is not my business to show you how 
6% 


66 ON KEEPING THE HEART 


these distractions come into the heart. but rather how 
to get them out, and prevent their future admission, 

1. Sequester yourself from all earthiy employments, 
and set apart some time for solemn preparation fo 
meet God in duty. You cannot come directly from 
the world into God’s presence without finding a savot 
of the world in your duties. It is with the heart (@ 
few minutes since plunged in the world, now in the 
presence of God) as it is with the sea after a storm, 
which still continues working, muddy and disquiet, 
though the wind be laid and the storm be over. Your 
heart must have some time to settle: Few musicians 
can take an instrument and play upon it without some 
time and labor to tune it; few Christians can say with 
David, “My heart-is fixed, O God, it is fixed.” When 
you go to God in any duty, take your heart aside and 
say, ‘O my soul, I am now engaged in the greatest 
work that a c:eature was ever employed about; I am 
going into the awful presence of God upon business 
of everlasting moment. O my soul, leave trifling now; 
be composed, be watchful, be serious; this is no com 
mon work, if is soul-work ; it is work for eternity ; it 
is work which will bring forth fruit to life or death in 
the world to come.’ Pause awhile and consider your 
sins, your wants, your troubles; keep your thoughts 
awhile on these before you address yourself to duty. 
David first mused, and then spake with his tongue. 

2. Having composed your heart by previous medita- 
tion, immediately set a guard upon your senses. How 
often are Christians in danger of losing the eyes of 
their mind by those of their body! Against this Da- 
vid prayed, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding 
vanity, and quicken thou me in thy way.” This may 
serve to expound the Arabian proverb: “Shut the 


ON KEEPING ‘THE HEART. TY] 


‘windows that the house may be light.” It were well 
‘if you could say in the commencement, as a holy man 
once said when he came from the performance of du- 
ty: “Be shut, O my eyes, be shut; for it is impossible 
‘that you should ever discern such beauty and glory 
‘in any creature as I have now seen in God.” You 
‘must avoid all occasions of distraction from without, 
‘and imibibe that intenseness of spirit in the work of 
God which locks up the eye and ear against vanity. 

3. Beg of Goda mortified fancy. A working fancy, 
(saith one,) how much soever it be extolled among 
‘men, is a great snare to the soul, except it work in fel- 
owship with right reason and a sanctified heart: The 
fancy is a power of the soul, placed between the sens- 
es and the understanding; it is that which first stirs 
itself in the soul, and by its motions the other powers 
‘of the soul are brought into exercise; it is that in 
which thoughts are first formed, and as that is, so are 
they. If imaginations be not first cast down, it is im- 
‘possible that every thought of the heart should be 
brought into obedience to Christ. The fancy is natu- 
‘rally the wildest and most untameable power of the 
soul. Some Christians have much to do with it; and 
‘the more spiritual the heart is, the ‘more dees a wild 
‘and vain fancy disturb and perplex it. It is a sad 
‘thing that one’s imagination should call off the soul 
from attending on God, when it is engaged in commu- 
‘tion with him. Pray ewnestly and perseveringly that 
your fancy may be chastened and sanctified, and when 
this is accomplished your thoughts will be regular and 
fixed. 

4. If you would keep yout heart from vain excur- 
‘sions when engaged in duties, realize to yourself, by 
faith, the holy and awful presence of God. If the 


68 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


presence of a grave man would compose you to se 
riousness, how much more should the presence of a 
holy God? Do you think-that you would dare to be 
gay and light if you realized the presence and inspee- 
tion of the Divine Being? Remember where you are 
when engaged in religious duty, and act as if you be 
lieved in the omniscience of God. “All things are 
naked and open to the eyes of Him with whom we 
have to do.” Realize his infinite holiness, his purity, 
his spirituality. ; 

Strive to obtain such apprehensions of the greatness 
of God as shall suitably affect your heart; and re 
member his jealousy over his worship. “This is that 
the Lord spake, saying, I will be sanctified in them 
that come nigh me, and before all the people I will be 
glorified.” “A man that is praying (says Bernard) 
should behave himself as if he were entering into the 
court of heaven, where he sees the Lord upon his 
throne, surrounded with ten thousand of his angels 
and saints ministering unto him.”—When you come 
from an exercise in which your heart has been wan- 
dering and listless, what can you say ? Suppose all the 
vanities and impertinences which have passed through 
your mind during a devotional exercise were written 
down and interlined with your petitions, could you 
have the face to present them to God? Should your 
tongue utter all the thoughts of your heart when at- 
tending the worship of God, would not men abhor yout 
Yet your thoughts are perfectly known to God. O think 
upon this scripture: “God is greatly to be feared in 
the assemblies of his saints, and to be had in reverence 
of all them that are round about him.” Why did the 
Lord descend in thunderings and lightnings and dark 
clouds upon Sinai? why did the mountains smoke un- 


ON KEEPING THE HEART 69 


jer him, the people quake and tremble round about 
aim, Moses himself not excepted? but to teach the 
aeople this great truth: “Let us have grace, whereby 
e@ may serve Him acceptably, with reverence and 
godly fear; for our God is a consuming fire.” Such 
apprehensions of the character and presence of God 
quickly reduce a heart inclined to vanity to a 
more serious frame. 
_ 5. Maintain a prayerful frame of heart in the inter- 
vals of duty. What reason can be assigned why our 
nearts are so dull, so careless, so wandering, when we 
hear or pray, but that there have been long intermis- 
sions in our communion with God? If that divine 
unction, that spiritual fervor, and those holy impres- 
sions, which we obtain from God while engaged in the 
performance of one duty, were preserved to enliven 
and engage us in the performance of another, they 
would be of incalculable service to keep our hearts se- 
rious and devout. For this purpose, frequent ejacula- 
tions between stated and solemn duties are of most 
excellent use: they not only preserve the mind in a 
composed and pious frame, but they connect one sta- 
ed duty, as it were, with another, and keep the atten- 
ion of the soul alive to all its interests and obligations. 
6. If you would have the distraction of your thoughts 
prevented, endeavor to raise your affections to God, 
land io engage them warmly in yourduty. When the 
soul is intent upon any work, it gathers in its strength 
‘and bends all its thoughts to that work; and when it 
s deeply affected, it will pursue its wbicee with intense- 
ness, the affections will gain an ascendancy over the 
oughts and guide them. But deadness causes dis- 
aclion, and distraction increases deadness. Could 
vou but regard your duties as the medium in which 


70 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


you might walk in communion with God in whie 
your soul might be filled with those ravishing an 
matchless delights which his presence affords, yo) 
might have no inclination to neglect them. But if yo 
would prevent the recurrence of distracting thoughts 
if you would find your happiness in the performance 
of duty, you must not only be careful that you engag, 
in what is your duty, but labor with patient and perse 
vering exertion to interest your feelings in it. Why 
is your heart so inconstant, especially in secret duties 
why are you ready to be gone, almost as soon as you 
are come into the presence of God, but because you 
affections are not engaged? . 

7. When you are disturbed by vain thoughts, hum- 
ble yourself before God, and call in assistance from 
Heaven. When the messenger of Satan buffeted St. 
Paul by wicked suggestions, (as is supposed ) he mourn- 
ed before God on account of it. Never slight wander- 
ing thoughts in duty as small matters; follow every 
such thought with a deep regret. Turn to God with 
such words as these: ‘ Lord, I came hither to commune 
with thee, and here a busy adversary and a vain heart, 
conspiring together, have opposed me. O my God! 
what a heart have I! shall I never wait upon thee 
without distraction? when shall I enjoy an hour of 
free communion with thee ?. Grant me thy assistance at 
this time ; discover thy glory to me, and my heart will 
quickly be recovered. I came hither to enjoy thee, 
and shall I go away without thee? Behold my dis- 
tress, and help me!—Could you but sufficiently be- 
wail your distractions, and repair to God for deliver- 
ance from them, you would gain relief. 

8. Look upon the success and the comfort of your 
duties, as depending very much upon the keeping of 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. ras 


_ your heart c.ose with God in them. These two things, 
the success of duty and the inward comfort arising 
_ from the performance of it, are unspeakably dear to 
‘the Christian; but both of these will be lost if the 
| heart be in a listless state. “‘ Surely God heareth not 
| vanity, nor doth the Almighty regard it.” The promise 
is made to a heart engaged: “ Then shall ye seek for 
me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all 
_your hearts.” When you find your heart under the 
_ power of deadness and distraction, say to yourself, ‘O 
/ what do I lose by a careless heart now! My praying 
seasons are the most valuable portions of my life: 
eould I but raise my heart to God, I might now ob- 
/tain such mercies as would be matter of praise to ail 
eternity.’ 
| 9. Regard your carefulness or carelessness in this 
‘matter as a great evidence of your sincerity, or hypo- 
‘erisy. Nothing will alarm an upright heart more than 
this. ‘ What! shall I give way toa customary wan- 
‘dering of the heart from God? Shall the spot of the 
‘hypocrite appear upon my soul ? Hypocrites, indeed, 
‘ean drudge on in the round of duty, never regarding 
ithe frame of their hearts ; but shall I do so?) Never— 
never let me be satisfied with empty duties. Never 
let me take my leave of a duty until my eyes have 
‘seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.’ 

10. It will be of special use to keep your heart with 
‘God in duty, to consider what influence all your duties 
will have upon your eternity. Your religious seasons 
are your seed times, and in another world you must 
reap the fruits of what you sow in your duties here, 
If you sow to the flesh, you will reap corruption ; if 
‘you sow to the Spirit, you will reap life everlasting. 
\Answer seriously these questions: Are you willing to 


! 


i 


72 - ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


reap the fruit of vanity in the world to come? Dare 
you say, when your thoughts are roving to the ends 
of the earth in duty, when you scarce mind what you 
say or hear, ‘Now, Lord, I am sowing to the Spirit; 
now I am providing and laying up for eternity; now 
I am seeking for glory, honor and immortality ; now 
I am striving to enter in at the strait gate; now Lai 
taking the kingdom of heaven by hoiy vicleneal 
Such reflections are well calculated to dissipate vain 
thoughts. a 

VII, The seventh season, which requires more than 
common diligence to keep the heart, is when we re 
ceive injuries and abuses from men. Such is the de- 
pravity and corruption of man, that one is become as 
a wolf or a tiger to another. And as men are natt- 
rally cruel and oppressive one to another, so the wick 
ed conspire to abuse and wrong the people of God. 
“The wicked devoureth the man that is more right 
eous than he.” Now when we are thus abused and 
wronged, it is hard to keep the heart from revengeful 
motions; to make it meekly and quietly commit 
the eause to’ Him that judgeth righteously ; to prevent 
the exercise of any sinful affection. The spirit that 
is in us lusteth to revenge; but it must not be so. We 
have choice helps in the Gospel to keep our hearts 
from sinful motions against our enemies, and to 
sweeten our embittered spirits. Do you ask how a 
Christian may keep his heart from revengeful motions 
under the greatest injuries and abuses from men? I 
reply: When you find your heart begin to be inflamed 
by revengeful feelings, immediately reflect on the fais 
. lowing things : 

1. Urge upon your heart the severe prohibitions of 
revenge contained in the law of God. However gra- 


a | 
|. 


ON KEBPING THE HART. 73 


tifying to your corrupt propensities revenge may be, 
remember that it is forbidden. Hear the word of God: 
Say not, I will recompense evil.” Say not, I will do 
soto him as he hath done to me. ‘“ Recompense to 
a man evil for evil. Avenge nc* yourselves, but 
give place unto wrath ; for it ‘= written, Vengendeei is 
mine, I will repay, ath 1e Lord.” On the contrary, 
“Tf thine enemy huvger, feed him; if he thirst, give 
him drink.” It was an argument urged by the 
Christians to prove their religion to be supernatural 
and pure, that it forbids revenge, which is so agreeable 
to nature; and it is to be wished that such an argument 
might not be laid aside. Awe your heart, then, with 
the authority of God in the Scriptures; and when 
carnal reason says, ‘My enemy deserves to be hated,’ 
let conscience reply, ‘ But doth God deserve to be dis- 
obeyed? ‘Thus and thus hath he done, and so hath 
hewronged me; ‘But what hath God done that 1 
should wrong him? If my enemy dares boldly to 
break the peace. shall I be so wicked as to break the 
precept ? if he fears not to wrong me, shall not I fear 
to wrong God”? ‘Thus let the fear cf God restrain and 
calm your feelings. 

2. Set before your eyes the most eminent patterns 
of meekness and forgiveness, that you may feel the 
force of their example. This is the way to cut off the 
common pleas of flesh and blood for revenge: as thus, 
“Noman would bear such an affront ;’ yes, others have 
borne as bad, and worse ones. ‘ But I shall be reckon- 
ed a coward, a fool, if I pass by this:’ no maiter, so 
long as you follow the examples of the wisest and ho- 
liest of men. Never did any one sufier more or great- 
er abuses from men than Jesus did, nor did any one 


ever endure insult and reproach ae every kind of 
7 I the Heart 


’ 


ili 


74 ON KEEPING THE HEART.. 


abuse in a more peaceful and forgiving manner ; when 
he was reviled he reviled not again ; when he sufferes 
he threatened not; when his murderers crucified hi 
he prayed Father, forgive them; and herein he hath 
us an example, that we should follow his steps. Thus 
his apostles imitated him: “Being reviled,” say they 
“we bless; being persecuted, we suffer it; being de- 
famed, we entreat.” Ihave often heard it reported ¢ 
the holy Mr. Dod, that when a man, enraged at his 
close, convincing doctrine, assaulted him, smote him 
on the face, and dashed out two of his teeth ; that 
meek servant of Christ spit out the teeth and blood 
into his hand, and said, “See here, you have knocked 
out two of my teeth, and that without any just pre 
vocation; but on condition that I might do your soul 
good, I would give you leave to knock out all the 
rest.” Here was exemplified the excellency of the 
Christian spirit. Strive then for this spirit, which con- 
stitutes the true excellence of Christians. Do what 
others cannot do, keep this spirit in exercise, and you 
will preserve peace in yourown soul and gain the vic- 
tory over your enemies. at 
2. Consider the character of the person who has” 
wronged you. He is eithera good ora wicked man. Ifhe 
is a good man, there is light and tenderness in his con-- 
science, which sooner or later will bring him to a sense 
of the evil of what he has done. Ifheisa good man, 
Christ has forgiven him greater injuries than he has” 
cone to you; and why should not you forgive him? 
Will Christ not upbraid him for any of his wrongs, 
but frankly forgive them ail; and will you take him by 
the throat for some petty abuse which he has offered 
you? eV 
2. But if a wicked man has injured or insulted you, » 


~ 


ON KEEPING THE BEART. 75 


truly you have more reason to exercise pity than re- 
venge toward him. He is in a deluded and miserable 
| state ; a slave to sin and an enemy to righteousness. It 
he should ever repent, he will be ready to make you 
reparation; if he continues impenitent, there is a day 
coming when he will be punished to the extent of his 
deserts. You need not study revenge, God will exe- 
eute vengeance upon him. 

4, Remember that by revenge you can only gratify 
a sinful passion, which by forgiveness you might con - 
quer. Suppose that by revenge you might destroy one 
enemy ; yet, by exercising the Christian’s temper you 
might conquer three—your own lust, Satan’s tempta- 
tion, and your enemy’s heart. If by revenge you should 
overcome your enemy, the victory would be unhappy 
and inglorious, for in gaining it you would be over- 
come by your own corruption; but by exercising a 
/meek and forgiving temper, you will always come off 
with honor and success.It must bea very disingenuous 
nature indeed upon which meekness and forgiveness 
will not operate; that must be a flinty heart which 
this fire will not melt. Thus David gained such a vie- 
tory over Saul his persecutor, that “ Saul lifted up his 
voice and wept, and he said to David, Thou art more 
righteous than I.” 

5. Seriously propose this question to your own 
heart: ‘Have [ got any good by means of the wrongs 
and injuries which I have received? If they have done 
you no good, turn your revenge upon yourself. You 
have reason to be filled with shame and sorrow that 
you should have a heart which can deduce no good 
‘from such troubles; that your temper should be so 
unlike that of Christ. The patience and meekness of 
ether Christians have turned all the injuries offered to 


76 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


them to a good account; their souls have been an 
mated to praise God when they have been loaded with 
reproaches from the world. “TI thank my God.” said 
Jerome, “that Iam worthy to be hated of the world. 
But if you have derived any benefit from the re- 
proaches and wrongs which you have received, if they 
have put you upon examining your own heart, if they 
have made you more careful how you conduct, if they 
have convinced. you of the value of a sanctified tem- 
per; will you not forgive them ? will you not forgive 
one who has been instrumental of so much good ta 
you? What though he meant it for evil ? if through 
the Divine blessing your happiness has been promoted 
by what he has done, why should you even have a 
hard thought of him ? 

6. Consider by whom all your troubles are ordered. 
This will be of great use to keep your heart from re- 
venge; this will quickly calm and sweeten your tem- 
per. When Shimei railed at David and cursed him, 
the spirit of that good man was not at all poisoned by 
revenge ; for when Abishai offered him, if he pleased, the 
head of Shimei, the king said, “Let him curse, be- 
cause the Lord hath said unto him, Curse David: who 
shall then say, Wherefore hast thou done so?” It may 
be that God uses him as his rod to chastise me, because 
by my sin I gave the enemies of God occasion to 
blaspheme ; and shall I be angry with the instrument ? 
hew irrational were that! Thus Job was quieted ; he 
did not rail and meditate revenge upon the Chaldeans 
and Sabeans, but regarded God as the orderer of his 
troubles, and said, “The Lord hath taken away, bless- 
' ed be his name.” 

7. Consider how you are daily and hourly wrong- 
ing Ged, and you will not be so easily inflamed with 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 77 


revenge against those who have wronged you. You 
are constantly affronting God, yet he does not take 
‘vengeance on you, but bears with you and forgives; 
and will you rise up and avenge yourself upon others ? 
Reflect on this cutting rebuke: “O thou wicked and 
slothful servant! I forgave thee all that debt because 
thou desiredst me; shouldst thou not also have com- 
passion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on 
thee?” None should be so filled with forbearance and 
mercy to such as wrong them, as those who have ex- 
perienced the riches of mercy themselves. The mer- 
cy of God to us should melt our hearts into merey 
‘toward others. It is impossible that we sheuld be 
cruel to others, except we forget how kind and com- 
passionate God hath been to us. And if kindness can- 
not prevail in us, methinks fear should:—“If ye for- 
give not men their trespasses, neither will your Father 
forgive your trespasses.” 

8. Let the consideration that the day of the Lord 
draweth nigh, restrain you from anticipating it by acts 
of revenge. Why are you so hasty ? is not the Lord 
at hand to avenge all his abused servants? ‘“ Be pa- 
tient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. 
Behold the husbandman waiteth, &c. Be ye also pa- 
tient, for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. 
Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye be 
condemned. Behold, the Judge standeth at the door.” 
Vengeance belongeth unto God, and will you wrong 
yourself so much as to assume his work ? 

VIII. The next season in which special exertion is 
necessary to keep the heart, is when we meet with 
great trials. In such cases the heart is apt to be sud- 
| denly transported with pride, impatience, or other sin- 

ful passions. Many good people are guilty of hasty 
7 


738 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


and very sinful conduct in such instances; and all 
have need to use diligently the following means to 
xeep their hearts submissive and patient under great 
trials. y 4 

1. Get humble and abasing thoughts of yourself, 
The humble is ever the patient man. Pride is the 
source of irregular and sinful passions. A lofty, will 
be an unyielding and peevish spirit. When we over- 
rate ourselves, we think that we are treated unworthi- 
ly, that our trials are too severe: thus we cavil and 
repine. Christian, you should have such thoughts of 
yourself as would put a stop to these murmurings: 
You should have lower and more humiliating views of 
yourse!f than any other one can have of you. Get hu- 
mility, and you will have peace whatever be your trial. 

2. Cultivate a habit of communion with God. This 
will prepare you for whatever may take place. This 
will so sweeten your temper and calm your mind as to 
secure you against surprisals. This will produce that 
inward peace which will make you superior to your 
trials. Habitual communion with God will afford you 
enjoyment, which you can never be willing to inter- 
rupt by sinful feeling. When a Christian is calm and 
submissive under his afflictions, probably he derives 
support and comfort in this way ; but he who is dis- 
composed, impatient, or fretful, shows that all is not 
right within—he cannot be supposed to practise com- 
munion with God. : 

3. Let your mind be deeply impressed with an ap 
prehension of the evil nature and effects of an unsub- 
missive and restless temper. It grieves the Spirit of 
God, and induces his departure. His gracious pre- 
sence and influence are enjoyed only where peace 
end quiet submission prevail. The indulgence of such 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 7 


a temper gives the adversary an advantage. Satan is 
an angry and discontented spirit. He finds no rest 
but -in restless hearts. He bestirs himself when the 
spirits are in commotion ; sometimes he fills the heart 
with ungrateful. and rebellious thoughts ; sometimes 
he inflames the tongue with indecent language. Again, 
such a temper brings great guilt upon the conscience, 
unfits the soul for any duty, and dishonors the Chris- 
tian name. O keep your heart, and let the power and 
excellence of your religion be chiefly manifested when 
you are brought into the greatest straits. 

4. Consider how desirable it is for a Christian to 
overcome his evil propensities. How much more pre- 
sent happiness it affords; how much better it is in 
every respect to mortify and subdue unholy feelings, 
than to give way to them. When upon your death- 
bed you come calmly to review your life, how com- 
fortable will it be to reflect on the conquest which you 
have made over the depraved feelings of your heart. 
It was a memorable saying of Valantinian the em- 
peror, when he was about to die: “ Amongst all my 
conquests, there is but one that now comforts me.” 
Being asked what that was, he answered, “I have 
overcome my worst enemy, my own sinful heart ” 

5. Shame yourself, by contemplating the character 
of those who have been most eminent for meekness 
and submission. Above all, compare your temper with 
the Spirit of Christ. “ Learn of me,” saith he, “ for I 
am meek and lowly.” It is said of Calvin and Ursin, 
though both of choleric natures, that they had so im- 
bibed and ‘cultivated the meekness of Christ as not to 
utter an unbecoming word under the greatest provoca- 
tions. And even many of the heathens have manifest- 
ed great moderation and forbearance under their se- 


89 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


verest afflictions. Is it not ashame and a reproach —_ 
you should be outdone 'by them ? 

6. Avoid every thing which is calculated to irritate 
your feelings. It is true spiritual valor to keep as far 
as we can out of sin’s way. If you can but avoid the 
excitements to impetuous and rebellious feelings, o1 
check them in their first beginnings, you will have hut. 
little to fear. The first workings of common sins are 
comparatively weak, they gain their strength by, de- 
grees; but in times of trial the motions of sin are j 
strongest at first, the unsubdued temper breaks out 
suddenly and wilentlyt But if you resolutely with- 
stand it at first, it will yield and give you the victory. 

IX..The ninth season wherein the greatest diligence 
and skill are necessary to keep the heart, is the hour 
of temptation, when Satan besets.the Christian’s heart, 
and takes the unwary by surprise. To keep the heart 
at such times, is not less a mercy thana duty. Few 
Christians are so skillful in detecting the fallacies, and 
repelling the arguments by which the adversary in- 
cites them to sin, as to come off safe and whole in 
those encounters. Many eminent saints have smarted 
severely for their want of watchfulness and diligence 
at such times. How then may a Christian keep his 
heart from yielding to temptation ? There are several 
principal ways in which the adversary insinuates 
temptation, and urges compliance. 

1. Satan suggests that here is pleasure to be enjoyed ; 
the temptation is presented with a smiling aspect and 
an enticing voice: ‘What, are you so dull and phleg- 
raatic as not to feel the powerful charms of pleasure ? 
Who can withhold himself from such delights? 
Reader, you may be rescued from the danger of such 
temptations by repelling the proposal of pleasure. It 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 8h 


is urged that the commission of sin will afford you 
pleasure. Suppose this were true, will the accusing 
_ and condemning rebukes of conscience and the flames 
of hell be pleasant too? Is there pleasure in the 
_ scourges of conscience? If so, why did Peter weep so 
_ bitterly ? why did David ery out of broken bones? 
_ Yuu hear what is said of the pleasure of sin, and have 
you not read what David said of the effects of it ? 
“Thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand 
 presseth me sore; there is no soundness in my 
flesh because of thine anger, neither is there any rest 
in my bones because of my sin,” &c. If you yield to 
temptation, you must feel such inward distress on ac- 
count of it, or the miseries of hell. But why should 
tlre pretended pleasure of sin allure you, when you 
know that unspeakably more real pleasure will arise 
from the mortification than can arise from the com- 
“mission of sin. Will you prefer the gratification of 
some unhallowed passion, with the deadly poison 
which it will leave behind, to that sacred pleasure 
which arises from fearing and obeying God, comply- 
ing with the dictates of conscience, and maintaining 
inward peace ? Can sin afford any such delight as he 
feels who, by resisting temptation, has manifested the 
sincerity of his heart, and obtained evidence that he 
| fears God, loves holiness, and hates sin? 
2, The secrecy with which you may commit, sin 1s 
| made use of to induce compliance with temptation. 
‘The tempter insinuates that this indulgence will 
never disgrace you among men, for no one will know 
it. But recollect yourself. Does not God behold you ? 
| 1s not the divine presence every where ? What if you 
might hide your sin from the eyes of the world, you 
“cannot hide it from God. No darkness nor shadow 


i 


82 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


of death can screen you from his inspection. Besid 
have you no reverence for yourself? Can you do th 
by yourseif which you dare not have others observe? 
Is not your conscience as a thousand witnesses? 
Even a heathen could say, “ When thou art tempted 
to commit sin, fear thyself without any other witness.” 
3. The prospect of worldly advantage often enforces 

temptation. Itis suggested, ‘Why should you be so 
nice and scrupulous? Give yourself a little liberty, 
and you may better your condition: now is yout 
time.’ This is a dangerous temptation, and mu 
- be promptly resisted. Yielding to such a temptation 
will do your soul more injury than any temporal ac 
quisition can possibly do you good. And what would 
it profit you, if you should gain the whole world and 
lose your own soul ? What can be compared with the 
value of your spiritual interests? or what can at all 
i for the smallest injury ef them 2 

4. Perhaps the smallness of the sin is urged asa 
reason why you may commit it; thus: ‘It is buta 
little one, a small matter, a trifle; who would stand 
upon such niceties? But is the Majesty of heaven 
little too? If you commit this sin yow will offend a 
great God. Is there any little hell to torment tittle 
sinners in? No; the least sinners in hell are full of 
misery. There is great wrath treasured up for those 
whom the world regard as Jittle sinners. But the less 
the sin, the less the inducement to commit it. Will 
you provoke God for a trifle ? will you destroy your 
peace, wound your conscience, and grieve the Spirit, 
58 for nothing ? What madness is this! 

. An argument to enforce temptation is sometimes. 
amen from the mercy of God and the hope of pare 
don —God is merciful, he will pass by this as an in- 


ON KEEPING THE BEART. 83. 


“frmity, he will not be severe to mark it. But stay: 
/ where do you find a promise of mercy to presumptu- 
}ous sinners ? Involuntary reprisals and lamented in- 
| firmities may be pardoned, “but the soul that doth 
taught presumptuously, the same reproacheth the. 
_ Lord, and that soul shali be cut off from among his 
| peopie.” If God isa being of so much mercy, how 
} ean you affront him? How can you make so glorious 
an attribute as the divine mercy an occasion of sin ? 
| Will you wrong “him because he is good? Rather let 
his goodness lead you to repentance, and keep you 
from transgression. 

+ 6. Sometimes Satan encourages to the commission 
' of sin, from the examples of holy men. Thus and thus 
) they sinned, and were restored; therefore you may 
‘commit this sin, and yet be a saint and be saved. 
| Such suggestions must be instantly repelled. If good 
men have committed sins similar to that with which 
/ you are beset, did any good man ever sin upon such 
| ground aud from such encouragement as is here pre- 
sented ? Did God cause their examples to be recorded 
for your imitation, or for your warning? . Are they not 
}set up as beacons that you may avoid the rocks upon 
‘which they split? Are you willing-to feel what they 
‘felt for sin? Dare you follow them in sin, and plunge 
| yourself into such distress and danger as they ineur- 
red ?——Reader, in these ways learn to keep your 
heart in the hour of temptation. 

__X. The time of doubting and of spiritual darkness 
constitutés another season when it is very difficult to 
‘keep the heart. When the light and comfort of the 
‘divine presence is withdrawn; when dhe believer, 
froin the prevalence of indwelling sin in one form or 
other, is ready to renounce his hopes, to infer despe- 


A 


84 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


Tate conclusions with respect to himself, to regard 
his former comforts as vain delusions, and his profes~ 
sions as hypocrisy; at such a time much diligence is 
necessary to keep the heart from despondency. The 
Christian’s distress arises from his apprehension of his 
spiritual state, and in general he argues against his 
possessing true religion, either from his having re- 
lapsed into the same sins from which he had former- 
ly been recovered with shame and sorrow; or from 
the sensible declining of his affections from God; or 
from the strength of his affections toward creature en+ 
joyments; or from his enlargement in public, while 
he is often confined and barren in private duties ; or 
from some horrible suggestions of Satan, with which 
his soul is greatly perplexed; or, lastly, from God’s 
silence and seeming denial of his long depending 
prayers. Now in order to the establishment and sup- 
port of the heart under these circumstances, it is ne- 
cessary that you be acquainted with some general 
truths which have a tendency to calm the trembling 
and doubting soul; and that you be rightly instrueted 
with regard to the above-mentioned causes of disquiet. 
Let me direct. your attention to the following general 
truths. 

1. Every appearance of hypocrisy does not prove 
the person who manifesis it to be a hypocrite. You 
should carefuily distinguish between the appearance 
and the predominance of hypocrisy. There are re- 
mains of deceitfulness in the best hearts; this was ex- 
emplified in David and Peter; but the prevailing 
frame of their hearts being upright, they were not de- 
nominated hypocrites for their conduct. 

2. We ought to regerd what canbe said in our favor, 
as well as what may be said against us. It is the sin 


ON KEDPING THE HEART. 83 


of upright persons sometimes, to exercise an unreason- 
‘able severity against themselves. They do not im- 
partially consider the state of their souls. To make 
‘their state appear better than it really is, indeed is the 
‘damning sin of self-flattering hypocrites ; and to make 
their state appear worse than it really is, is the sin and 
‘folly of some good persons. But why should you be 
suchan enemy to your own peace ? Why read over the 
evidences of God’s love to your soul, as a man does a 
‘book which he intends to confute? Why do you 
study evasions, and turn off those comforts which are 
due to you? 
_ 3. Every thing which may be an occasion of grief 
to the people of God, is not a sufficient ground for their 
“questioning the reality of their religion. Many things 
“may trouble, which ought not to stumble you. If up- 
on every occasion you should call in question all that 

had ever been wrought upon you, your life would be 
made up of doubtings and fears, and you could never 
attain that settled inward peace, and live that life of 
praise and thankfulness which the Gospel requires. 
_ 4, The soul is not at all times in a suitable state to 
| pass a right judgment upon itself. Itis peculiarly un- 
| qualified for this in the hour of desertion or tempta- 
tion. Such seasons must be improved rather for 
| watching and resisting, than for judging and deter- 
| mining. ' 
_ 5, Whatever be the ground of one’s distress, it 
| should drive him to, not from God. Suppose you 
- have sinned thus and so, or that you have been thus 
long and sadly deserted, yet you have no right to in- 
fer that you ought to be discouraged, as if there was 
no help for you in God. 

When you have well digested these truths, if your 
8 K. the Heart. 


86 ON KELPING THE HEART. 


doubts and distress remain, consider what is now tob 
offered. ; — 

1. Are you ready to conclude that you have no par 
in the favor of God, because you are visited with som 
extraordinary affliction? If so, do you then right}: 
conclude that great trials are tokens of God’s hatred’ 
Does the Scripture teach this? And dare you infe 
the same with respect to all‘who have been as muel 
or more afflicted than yourself? If the argument i; 
good in your ease, it is good in application to theirs 
and more conclusive with respect to them, in propor. 
tion as their trials were greater than yours. Wo then 
to David, Job, Paul, and all who have been afflicted 
as they were! But had you passed along in quietness 
and prosperity; had God withheld those chastise 
ments with which he ordinarily visits his people, 
would you not have had far more reason for doubts 
and distressthan you now have? i 

2. Do you rashly infer that the Lord has no love to 
you, because he has withdrawn the light of his coun- 
tenance? Do you imagine your state to be hopeless, 
because it is dark and uncomfortable? Be not hasty 
in forming this conclusion. If any of the dispensa- 
tions of God to his people will bear a favorable as 
well as a harsh construction, why should they not be 
construed in the best sense? And may not God have 
a design of love rather than of hatred in the dispensa- 
tion under which you mourn? May he not depart for 
a season, without departing for ever? You are not 
the first that have mistaken the design of God in with- 
drawing himself. “Zion said, the Lord hath forsaken 
me, my Lord hath forgotten me.” But was it so? 
What saith the answer of God? “Can a woman for- 
get hersucking child 2?” &e, 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 87 


But do you sink down under the apprehension that 
the evidences of a total and final desertion are disco- 


| verable in your experience ? Have you then lost your 


conscientious tenderness with regard to sin? and are 
you inclined to forsake God 2 Ifso, you have reason 


indeed to be alarmed. But if your conscience is ten- 


derly alive; if you are resolved to cleave to the Lord; 
if the language of your heart is, I cannot forsake God, 
I cannot live without his presence; though he slay 
me, yet will I trust in him: then you have reason to 
hope that he will visit you again. It is by these ex- 
ercises that he still maintains his interest in you. 
Once more. Are sense and feelings suitable to 
sudge of the dispensations of Godby? Can their tes- 
timony be safely relied on? Is it safe to argue thus: 
‘If God had any love for my soul, I should feel it 
now as well as in former times; but I cannot feel it, 


‘therefore it is gone ?” May you not as well conclude, 


when the sun is invisible to you, that he has ceased to 


! exist 2 Read Isaiah 1: 10. 


Now if there is nothing in the divine dealings with 


you which is a reasonable ground of your despon- 
' dency and distress, let us inquire what there is in 
_ your own conduct for which you should be so cast 


| down. 


1. Have you committed sins from which you were 


| formerly recovered with shame and sorrow ? And do 
_ you thence conclude that you sin allowedly and ha- 
-bitually, and that your oppositions to sin were hypo- 


critical 2 But do not too hastily give up all for lost. 


| Is not your repentance and care renewed as often as 


you commit sin? Is it not the sin itself which trou- 


bles you, and is it not true, that the oftener you sin 
| the more you are distressed ? It is not so in customa- 


88 ON KEEPING THE HEART. » 


ry sinning; of which Bernard excellently discourses 1 
thus: “ When a man accustomed to restrain, sins” 
grievously, it seems insupportable to him, yea he seems 
to descend alive into hell. In process of time it seems 
not insupportable, but heavy, and between insupport- 
able and heavy there is no small descent. Next, such 
sinning becomes light, his conscience smites but faint- 
ly, and he regards not her rebukes. Then he is not 
only insensible to his guilt, but that which was bitter 
and displeasing has become in some degree sweet and 
pleasant. Now it is made a custom, and not only 
pleases, but pleases habitually. At length custom be- 
comes nature; he cannot be dissuaded from it, but 
defends and pleads for it.’ This is allowed and cus- 
tomary sinning, this is the way of the wicked. But is 
not your way the contrary of this? 

2. Do you apprehend a decline of your affections — 
from God and from spiritual subjects? This may be 
your case, and vet there may be hope. But possibly 
you are mistaken with regard to this. There are 
many things to be learnt in Christian experience; it 
has relation to a great variety of subjects. You may 
now be learning what it is very necessary for you 
to know as aChristian. Now, what if you are not sen- 
sible of so lively affections, of such ravishing views as 
you had at first; may not your piety be growing 
more solid and consistent, and better adapted to prac- 
tical purposes? Does it follow from your not always 
being in the same frame of mind, or from the fact that 
the same objects do not at all times excite the same 
feelings, that you have no true religion? Perhaps 
you deesive yourself by looking forward to what you 
would be, rather than contemplating what you are, 
compared with what you once were. 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 89 


~ °3. If the strength of your love to creature enjoy- 
ments is the ground of desperate conclusions respect- 
ing yourself, perhaps you argue thus: “I fear that I 
love the creature more than God, if so, I have not true 
love to God. {sometimes feel stronger affections to- 
ward earthly comforts. than I do toward heavenly ob- 
jects, therefore my soul is not upright within me.” 
If, indeed, you love the creature for itself, if you make 
it your end, and religion but a means, then you con- 
clude rightiy; for this is incompatible with supreme 
love to God. But may not a man love God more ar- 
dently and unchangeably than he does any thing, or 
all things else, and yet, when God is not the direct ob- 
ject of his thoughts, may he noi be sensible of more 
violent affection for the creature than he has at that time 
for God? As rooted malice indicates a stronger hatred 
than sudden though more violent passion ; so we must 
judge of our love, not by a violent motion of it now 
and then, bet by the depth of its root and the con- 
stancy of its exercise. Perhaps your difficulty results 
from bringing your love to some foreign and improper 
test. Many persons have feared that when brought to 
some eminent trial they should renounce Christ and 
cleave to the creature ; but when the trial came, Christ 
was every thing, and the world as nothing in their es- 
teem. Such were the fears of some martyrs whose 
victory was complete. But you may expect divine as- 
sistance only at the time of, and in proportion to your 
necessity. If you would try your iove, see whether 
you are willing to forsake Christ now. 

-4. Is the want of that enlargement in private which 
you find in public exercises an occasion of doubts and. 
fears? Consider then whether there are not some cir- 
cumstances attending public duties which are pecu- 

§* 


8) ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


liarly caleulated to excite your feelings and elevate ~ 
your mind, and which cannot affect you in private. — 
if so, your exercises in secret, if performed faithfully 
and ii a suitable manner, may be profitable, though 
they have not all the characteristics of those in public. 
If you imagine that you have spiritual enlargement 
and enjoyment in public exercises while you neglect 
private duties, doubtless you deceive yourself. Indeed — 
af you live in the neglect of secret duties, or are care~— 
less about them, you have great reason to fear. Dutif 
you regularly and faithfully perform them, it does not — 
follow that they are vain and worthless, or that they 
are not of great value, because they are not attende: 
with so much enlargement as you ‘sometimes find in 
public. And what if the Spirit is pleased more highly 
to favor you with his gracious influence in one place ~ 
and at one time than another, should this be a redson — 
for murmuring and unbelief, or for thankfulness ? 

5. The vile | or blasphemous suggestions of Satan 
sometimes occasion great perplexity and distress _ 
They seem to lay open an abyss of corruption in the 
heart, and to say there can be no grace here. But there 
may be grace in the heart where such thoughts are. 
injected, though not in the heart which consents to — 
and cherishes them. Do you then abhor and oppose 
them? do you utterly refuse to prostitute yourself to 
their influence, and strive to keep holy and reverend 
thoughts of God, and of all religious objects? If so, 
such suggestions are involuntary, and no evidence 
against your piety. 

6. Is the seeming denial of your prayers an occasion 
of despondency? Are you disposed to say, “If God 
had any regard for my soul he would have heard my 
petitions before now; but I have no answer from him, 


hw a 


ON KEEPING THE BEART. gi 


and therefore no interest in him?” But stay: theugh 
God’s abhorring and finally rejecting prayer is an evi- 
dence that he rejects the person who prays, yet, dare 
you conclude that he has rejected you, because an an- 
swer to your prayers is celayed, or because you do 
not discover it if granted? “ May not God bear long 
with his own elect, that cry unto him day and night?” 

Others ];ave stumbled upon the same ground with 
you: “Isaid in my haste, Iam cut off from before 
thine eyes: nevertheless thou heardst the voice of my 
supplication.” sow are there net some things in your 
experience which indicate that your prayers are not 
rejected, though answer to- them is deferred? Are you 
not disposed to continue praying though you do not 
discover an answer? Are you not disposed still to as- 
eribe righteousness to God, while you consider the 
cause of his silence as being in yourself? Thus did 
David: “O my God, I cry in the day time, and thou 
hearest not; and in the night, and am not silent: but 
thou art holy,” &e. Does not the delay of an answer 
to your prayers excite you to examine your own heart 
and try your ways, that you may find and remove the 
difficulty? Ifso, you may have reason for humiliation, 
but not for despair. 

Thus I have shown you how: to keep your heart in 
dark and doubting seasons. God forbid that any false 
heart should encourage itself from these things. It is 
lamentable, that when we give saints and sinners their 
proper portions, each is so prone to take up the other’s 
part. 

XI. Another season, wherein the heart must be kept 
with all diligence, is when sufferings for religion are 
laid upon us. Blessed is the man who in such a sea- 
son is not offended in Christ. Now, whatever may be 


92 ON KEEPING THE HEART, 


the kind or degree of your sufferings, if they are suf- 


ferings for Christ’s sake and the Gospel’s, spare no dili- 
gence to keep your heart. If you are tempted to shrink 
or waver under them, let what follows help you to re- 
pel and to surmount the instigation. 

1. What reproach would you cast upon the Re- 
deemer and his religion by deserting him at sucha 
time as this! You would proclaim to the world, that 
how much soever you have boasted of the promises, 
when you are put to the proof you dare hazard no- 
thing upen your faith in them; and this will give the 
enemies of Christ an occasion te blaspheme. And will 
you thus furnish the triumphs of the uncircumcised 2? 
Ah, if you did but value the name of Christ as much 


as many wicked men value their names, you could. 
never endure that his should be exposed to contempt. . 


Will proud dust and ashes hazard death or hell rather 
than have their names disgraced, and will you endure 
nothing to maintain the honor of Christ? 

2. Dare you violate your conscience out of com- 
plaisance to flesh and blood? Who will comfort you 
when your conscience accuses and condemns you? 


What happiness can there be in life, liberty or friends, — 


when inward peace is taken away? Consider well 
what you do. 

3. Is not the public interest of Christ and his cause 
infinitely more important than any interest of your 


own, and should you not prefer his glory and the wel-. 


fare of his kingdom before every thing else? Should 
any temporary suffering, or any sacrifice which you 
ean be called to make, be suffered to come into com- 
petition with the honor of his name? 

. 4. Did the Redeemer neglect your interest and think 
lightly of you, when for your sake he endured suffer- 


he 
wt 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. ¢3 


ings between which and yours there can be no com- 
parison? Did he hesitate and shrink back? No: “ He 
endured the cross, despising the shame.” And did he 
with unbroken patience and constancy endure so much 
for you; and will you flinch from momentary suffer- 
ing in his cause? 
5. Can you so easily cast off the society and the pri- 
vileges of the saints and go over to the enemy’s side ? 
_ Are you willing to withhold your support from those 
who are determined to persevere, and throw your in- 
fluence in the scale against them? Rather let your 
body and soul be rent asunder. “If any man draw 
back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.” 
_ 6, How can you stand before Christ in the day. of 
judgment, if you desert him now? “ He that is ashamed 
of meand of my words in this adulterous and sinful 
generation, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed 
when he cometh in the glory of his Father with the 
holy angels.” Yet a little while, and the Son of man 
_ will come in the clouds of heaven, with power and 
| great glory, to judge the world. He will sit upon the 
throne of judgment, while all the nations are brought 
_ before him. Imagine yourself now to be witnessing 
| the transactions of that day. Behold the wicked; be- 
hold the apostates; and hear the consuming sentence 
_ which is pronounced upon them, and see them sinking 
in the gulf of infinite and everlasting wo! And will 
_ you desert Christ now, will you forsake his cause to 
save a little suffering, or to protract an unprofitable life 
' on earth, and thus expose yourself to the doom of the 
apostate? Remember, that if you can silence the re- 
| monstrances of conscience now, you cannot hinder the 
| sentence of the Judge then. By these means keep 


| your heart, that it depart net from the living God. 


$4 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


XII. The last season which I shall mention, in which — 
the heart must be kept with all diligence, is when we 
are warned by sickness that our dissolution is at hand. 
When the child of God draws nigh to eternity, the ad- 
versary makes his last effort; and as he cannot win 
the soul from God, as he cannot dissolve the bond © 
which unites the soul to Christ, his great design is to © 
awaken fears of death, to fill the mind with aversion: 
and horror at the thoughts of dissolution from the i 
body. Hence, what shrinking from a separation, what 
fear to grasp death’s cold hand, and unwillingness to 
depart, may sometimes be observed in the people of 
God. But we ought to die, as well as live, like saints. 

I shail offer several considerations calculated to help 
the people of God in time of sickness, to keep their 
hearts loose from all earthly objects, and cheerfully 
willing to die. 

1. Death is harmless to the people of God; its shafts 
leave no sting in them. Why then are you afraid that 
your sickness may be unto death? If you were to die _ 
in your sins; if death were to reign over you as a ty- 
rant, to feed upon you as a lion doth upon his prey; 
if death to you were to be the precursor of hell, then 
you might reasonably startle and shrink back from it 
with horror and dismay. But if your sins are blotted 
out; if Christ has vanquished death in your behalf, so 
that you have nothing to encounter but bodily pain, 
aud possibly not even that; if death will be to you the 
harbinger of heaven, why should you be afraid? why 
not bid it welcome? It cannot hurt you; it is easy 
and harmless; it is like putting off your clothes, or 
taking rest. 

2. It may keep your heart from shrinking back, to 
consider that death is necessary to fit you for the full 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 95 


enjoyment of God. Whether you are willing to die 
or not, there certainly is no other way to complete the 
happiness of your soul. Death must do you the kind 
office to remove this veil of flesh, this animal life which 
separates you from God, before you can see and enjoy 
him fully. “Whilst we are at home in the body, we 
are absent from the Lord.” And who would not be will- 
ing to die for the perfect enjoyment of God? Methinks 
one should look and sigh, like a prisoner, through 
the grates of this mortality : “O that I had wings like 
a dove, then would I fiy away and be at rest.” Indeed 
most men need patience to die; buta saint, who un- 
derstands what death will introduce him to, rather 
needs patience to live. On his death-bed he should 
often iook out and listen to his Lord’s coming; and 
when he perceives his dissolution to be near, he should 
say, “The voice of my beloved; behold he cometh, 
leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills.” 
3. Consider that the happiness of heaven commences 
immediately after death. That happiness will not be 
deferred till the resurrection ; but as soon as death has 
passed upon you, your soul will be swallowed up in 
life. When you have once loosed from this shore, 
you shall be quickly wafted to the shore of a glorious 
_ eternity. And can you not say, I desire to be dissolved, 
_ and to be with Christ? Did the soul and body die to- 
gether, or did they sleep till the resurrection, as some 
have fancied, it would have been folly for Paul to de- 
sire a dissolution for the enjoyment of Christ; because 
he would have enjoyed more in the body than he could 
_ have enjoyed out of it. 
The Scripture speaks of but two ways in which the 
_ soul can properly live: viz. by faith and vision. These 
two comprehend its present and future existence. 


ae 


96 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


Now, if when faith fails, sight should not immediately 
succeed, what would become of the soul? But the 
truth on this subject is clearly revealed in Scripture, r 
See Luke, 23: 3; John, 14: 3, &c. What a blessed © 
change then will death make in your condition! Rouse — 
up, dying saint, and rejoice; let death do his work, 
that the angels may conduct your soul to the world of 
light. 

4, It may increase your willingness to die, to reflect — 
that by death God often removes his people out of the 
way of great troubles and temptations. When some 
extraordinary calamity is coming upon the world, 
God‘sometimes removes his saints out of the way of 
the evil. Thus Methuselah died the year before the 
fiood; Augustine a litile before the sacking of Hippo; 
Pareus just before the taking of Heidelburg. Luther 
observes that all the apostles died before the destruc- 
tion of Jerusalem; and Luther himself died before the 
wars broke out in Germany. Now it may be that by 
death you wil escape some grievous trial, which you — 
could not and need not endure. But if no extraordi- 
nary trouble would come upon you in case your life 
were prolonged, yet God designs by death to relieve 
you from innumerable evils and burdens which are 
inseparable from the present state. Thus you will be 
delivered from indwelling sin, which is the greatest 
trouble; from all temptations from whatever source ; 
from bodily tempers and embarrassments ; and from 
all the afflictions and sorrows of this life. The days 
of your mourning will be ended, and God will wipe 
away all tears from your eyes. Why then should you 
not hasten to depart 2 ? 

5. If you still linger, like Lot in Sodom, what are 
your pleas and pretences for a longer life? Why are” 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. s7 


you unwilling to die? Are you concerned for the wel- 
fare of your reiations? I{so, are you anxious for their 
temporal support? Then let the word of God satisfy 
you: “Leave thy fatherless children to me, I will 
keep them alive, and let thy widows trust in me.” 
Luther says, in his last will, “ Lord, thou hast given 
me a wife and children, I have nothing to leave them, 
but T-ommit them unto thee. O Father ofthe father- 
less and Judge of widows, nourish, keep and teach 
them.” 

But are you concerned for the spiritual welfare ot 
your relations? Remember that you cannot convert 
them, if you should live; and God can make your pray- 
ers and counsels effectual when you are dead. 

Perhaps you desire to serve God -longer in this 
world. But ifhe has nothing further for you to do 
here, why not say with David, “ Here am If, let him 
do what seemeth him good.” Heis calling you to high- 
er service in heaven, and can accomplish by other 
hands what you desire to do further here—Do you 
feel too imperfect to go to heaven? Consider that 
you must be imperfect until ycu die; your sanctifica- 
tion cannot be complete until yon get to heaven. 

* But,’ you say, ‘I want assurance; if I had that I 
could die easily.’ Consider, then, that a hearty will- 
| ingness to leave all the world to be freed from sin, and 

to be with God, is the direct way to that desired assu- 
rance; no carnal person was ever willing to die upon 
this ground. 

Thus I have shown how the people of God, in the 
most difficult seasons, may keep their hearts with all 
diligence. 

I now proceed to improve and apply the subject: 


L You have seen that — keeping of the heart is 
K. the Heart. 


| 


the great work of a Christian, in which the very sou. — 
and life of religion consists, and without which all 
other duties are of no value in thesight of God. Henee, 
to the consternation of hypocrites and formal proleay 
sors, I infer, | 
1. That the pains and labors which many persons — 
have undergone in religion are of no value, and will 
turn to no good account. Many splendid services have 
been performed by men, which God will utterly reject: 
they will not stand on record in order to an eternal 
acceptance, because the performers took no heed to 
keep their hearts with God. This is that fatal rock on 
which thousands of vain professors dash and ruin them- 
selves eternally; they are exact about the externals of 
religion, but regardless of their hearts. O how many 
hours have some professors spent in hearing, praying, — 
reading and conferring! and yet, as to the main end of y 
religion, they might as well have sat still and done no- 
thing, the great work, I mean heart-work, being all the 
while neglected. Tell me, vain professor, when did 
you shed a tear for the deadness, hardness, unbelief or 
earthliness of your heart? And do you think your ea- 
sy religion can save you? If so, you must invert a 
Christ’s words, and say, Wide is the gate and broad *) 
is the way that leadeth to life, and many there be that 4 
goin thereat! Hear me, ye self- deluding hypoerite j ; 4 
you who have put off God with heartless duties; you 
who have acted in religion as if you had beem blessing ~ 
an idol; you who could not search your heart, and , 
regulate it, and exercise it in your performances; how 
will you abide the coming of the Lord ?. how will you 
hold up your head before him, when he shall say, 
‘O you dissembling. false-hearted man! how could — a 
you profess religion ? with what face could you s0 a ; 


98 ON KEEPING THE HEART 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. $9 


often tell me that you loved me, when you knew in 
your conscience that your heart was not with me? 
O tremble to think what a fearful judgment it is to be 
given over toa heedless and careless heart, and then 
to have religious duties instead of a rattle to quiet and 
still the conscience ! 

2. Linfer for their humiliation, that unless the people 
of God spend more time and pains about their hearts 
than they ordinarily do, they are never like to do God 
much service, or to possess much comfort in this world. 
I may say of that Christian who is remiss and care- 
less in keeping his heart, as Jacob said of Reuben, 
Thou shalt not excel. It grieves me to see how many 
Christians there are who live at a poor, low rate, both 
of service and comfort, and who go up and down de- 
jected and complaining. But how can they expect 
it should be otherwise, while they live so carelessly ? 
O how little of their time is spent in the closet, in 
searching, humbling, and quickening their hearts ! 

Christian, you say your heart is dead, and do you 
wonder that it is, so long as you keep it not with the 
fountain of life? If your body had been dieted as your 
soul has, that would have been dead too. And you 
may never expect that your heart will be in a better 
state until you take more pains with it. 

O Christians! I fear your zeal and strength have 
run in the wrong channel; I fear that most of us may 
take up the Church’s complaint: “ They have made 
‘me the keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vine- 

yard have I not kept.” Two things have eaten up the 
time and strength of the professors of this genera- 
tion, and sadly diverted them from heart-work. 
First :—Fruitless controversies, started by Satan, I 
»doubt not for the very purpose of taking us off from 


100 ON KEEPING THE HEART 


practical godliness, to make us puzzle our heads when § 

we should be inspecting our hearts. How little have 
we regarded the observation: “It is a good thing that — 
the heart be established with grace, and not with — 
meats,” (that is, with disputes and controversies about — 
meats,) “ which have not profited them that have been — 
occupied therein.” How much better it is to see men © 
live exactly, than to hear them dispute with subtlety! _ 
These unfruitful questions, how have they rent the 
churches, wasted time and spirits, and taken Chris- 
tians off from their main business! What think you, 
would it not have been better if the questions agitated 
among the people of God of late had been such as 
these :—“ How shall a man distinguish the special from — 
the common operations of the Spirit? How may a — 
soul discern its first backslidings from God? How — 
mav a backsliding Christian recover his first love? — 
How may the heart be preserved from unseasonable ~ 
thoughts in duty ? How may a bosom sin be disco- — 
vered and mortified ?” &ce. Would not this course — 
have tended more to the honor of religion and the com- — 
fort of souls 2? Iam ashamed that the professors of this . 
generation are yet insensible of their folly. O that — 
God would turn their disputes and contentions into — 
practical godliness ! 

Second :—Worldly cares and incumbrances have 

greatly increased the neglect of cur hearts. The heads 
and hearts of multitudes have been filled with such a 
crowd and noise of worldly business that they have 
, 


——— ——<—<—l 


lamentably declined in their zeal, their love, their de- 
light in God, and their heavenly, serious, and profitable 
way of conversing with men. How miserably have 
we entangled ourselves in this wilderness of trifles ! 
Our discourses, our conferences, nay, our very prayers 


ON EEEPING THE HEART. 101 
are tinged with it. We have had so much to do with- 
out, that we have been able to do but little within. 
And how many precious opportunities have we thus 
lost? How many admonitions of the Spirit have pass- 
ed over unfruitfully 2 How often has the Lord called 
to us, when our worldly thoughts have prevented us 
from hearing? But there certainly is a way to enjoy 
God even in our worldly employments. If we lose 
our views of him when engaged in our temporal af- 
fairs, the fault is our own. Alas! that Christians 
should stand at the door of eternity, having more work 
upon their hands than their time is sufficient for, and 
yet be filling their heads and hearts with trifles ! 

3. L infer, lastly, for the awakening of all, that if the 
keeping of the heart be the great work of a Christian, 
then there are but few real Christians in the world. If 
every one who has learned the dialect of Christianity, 
and who can talk like a saint; ifevery one who has 
gifts and parts, and who can make shift to preach, 
pray, or discourse like a Christian: in a word, if all 
such as associate with the people of God and partake 
of ordinances may pass for Christians, then indeed the 
number is great. But alas! how few can be found, if 
you judge them by this rule,—how few are there who 
conscientiously keep their hearts, watch their thoughts 
and look scrupulously to their motives! Indeed there 
are few closel-men among proiessors. It 1s easier luc 
men to be reconciled to any other duties in religion 
than to these. The profane part of the world will not 
so much as meddle with the outside of any religious 
duties, and least of all with those; and as to the hy- 
pocrite, though he may be very particular in externals, 
you can never persuade him to undertake this inward, 
this difficult work ; this work, to which there is no in- 

g* 


7 
102 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 7 


ducement from human applause; this work, which 
would quickly discover what the hypocrite cares not 
to know: so that by general consent this heart-work 
is left to the hands ofa few retired ones, and I tremble 
to think in how few hands itis. 

If. If the keeping of the heart be so important a 
business; ifsuch great advantages result from it; if 
so many valuable interests be wrapt up in it, then let ” 
me call upon the people of God every where to en- 
gage heartily in this work. © study your hearts, — 
watch your hearts, keep your hearts! Away with fruit- 
less controversies and all idle questions; away with 
_ empty names and vain shows; away with unprofita- 
ble discourse and bold censures of others, and turn 
in upon yourselves. O that this day, this hour, you 
would resolve upon doing so! 

Reader, methinks I shall prevail with you. All that 
I beg for is this, that you would step aside oftene: to 
talk with God and your own heart; that you would 
not suffer every trifle to divert you; that you would 
keep a more true and faithful account of your thoughts 
and affections; that you would seriously demand of — 
your own heart at least every evening, ‘O my heart, 
where hast thou been to-day, and what has engaged 
thy thoughts ? 

If all that has been said by way of inducement be 
not enough, I have yet some motives to offer you. 

1. The studying, observing, and diligeutly keeping | 
your own heart, will surprisingly help you to under- ~ 
stand the deep mysteries of religion. An honest, well- 
experienced heart is an excellent help to the head. 
Such a heart will serve fora commentary on a great 
part of the Scriptures. By means of such a heart you 
will have a better understanding of divine things than 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 103 


the most Jearned (graceless) man ever had, or can 
have ; you will not only have a clearer, but a more 
interesting and profitable apprehension of them. A 
man may discourse orthodoxly and profoundly of the 
nature and effects of faith, the troubles and comforts 
of conscience, and the sweetness of communion with 
God, who never felt the efficacy and sweet impression 
of these things upon hisown soul. But how dark and 
dry are his notions compared with those of an expe- 
rienced Christian! 

2. The study and observation of your own heart will 
powerfully secure you against the dangerous and in- 
fecting errors of the times in which ycu live. For what 
think you is the reason why so many professors have 
departed from the faith, giving heed to fables? why 
have so many been led away by the error of the wick- 
ed? why have those who have sown corrupt doctrines 
had such plentiful harvests among us, but because they 
have met with a race of professors who never knew 
what belongs to practical godliness and the study and 
keeping of their hearts ? 

3. Your care and diligence in keeping your heart 
will prove one of the best evidences of your sincerity. 
I know no external act of religion which truly distin- 
guishes the sound from the unsound professor. Itis 
marvellous how far hypocrites go inall external du- 
ties; how plausibly they can order the outward man, 
hiding all their indecencies from the observation cf the 
world. But they take no heed to their hearts; they 
are not in secret what they appear to be in public; 
and before this test no hypocrite can siand. They 
may, indeed, in a fit of terror, or on a death-bed, ery 
out of the wickedness of their hearts; but sucn extort- 
ed complaints are worthy ofno regard. No credit, in 


104 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
* 


law, is to be given to the testimony of one upon the 
rack, because it may be supposed that the extremity of 
his torture will make him say any thing to get relief. 
But if self-jealousy, care and watchfulness be the 
daily workings and frames of your heart, you have 
some evidence of your sincerity. 

4. How comfortable and how profitable would all 
ordinances and duties be to you, if your heart was 
faithfully kept. What lively communion might you 
have with God every time you approach him, if your 
heart was in aright frame! You might then say with 
David, “My meditation of Him shall be sweet.” It is 
the indisposition of the heart which renders ordinances, 
and secret duties so comfortless to some. They strive 
to raise their hearts to God, now pressing this argu- 
ment upon them, then that, to quicken and affect them ; 
yet they often get nearly through the exercise before 
their hearts begin to be interested in it; and some- 
times they go away no better than they came. But 
the Christian whose heart is prepared by being con- 
stantly kept, enters immediately and heartily into his 
cuties; he outstrips his sluggish neighbor, gets the 
first sight of Christ in a sermon, the first seal from 
Christ in a sacrament, the first communication of grace 
and love in secret prayer. Now if there be any thing 
valuable and comfortable in ordinances and private du- 
ties, look to your heart and keep it, 1 beseeen you, 

5. An acquaintance with your own heart will fur- 
nish you a fountain of matter in prayer. The man 
who is diligent in heart-work, will be richly supplied 
with matter in his addresses to God. He will not be 
confused for want of thoughts; his tongue will not 
falter for want of expressions. ; 

6. The most desirable thing in the world, viz. the 


ON KEEPING THE WEART. 105 


revival of religion among a people, may be effected 
by means of what Iam urging upon you. 

O that I might see the time when professors shall not 
waik in a vain show; when they shall please them- 
selves no more with a name to live, while they are spi- 
ritually dead ; when they shall be no more a company 
of frothy, vain persons ; but when holiness shall shine 
in their conversation, and awe the world, and com- 
mand reverence from all that are around them ; when 
they shall warm the heart of those who come near 
them, and cause it to be said, God is in these men of 
atruth. And may such a time be expected? Until 
heart-work becomes the business of professors, I have 
no hope of seeing a time so blessed! Does it not 
grieve you to sec how religion is contemned and trem- 
pled under foot, and the professors of it ridiculed and 
scorned in the world? Professors, would you recover 
your eredit? would you obtain an honorable testimo- 
ny in the consciences of your very enemies? Then 
keep your hearts. 

7. By diligence in keeping our hearts we should 
prevent the occasions of fatal scandals and stumbling- 
blocks to the world. Wo to the world because of 
offences ! ‘ 

Keep your heart faithfully, and you will be prepar- 
ed for any situation or service to which you may be 
called. This, and this only can properly fit you for 
usefulness in any station; but with this you can en- 
dure prosperity or adversity ; you can deny yourself, 
and turn your hand to any work. Thus Paul turned 
every circumstance to good account, and made him- 
self so eminently useful. When he preached to others, 
he provided against being cast away himself: he kept 
his heart ; and every thing in which he excelled seems 


106 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 


to have had a close connection with his diligence in 
keeping his heart. 

9. If the people of God would diligently keep their 
hearts, their communion with each other would be 
unspeakably more inviting and profitable. ‘Then “how 
goodly would be thy tents, O Jacob, and thy taberna- 
cles, O Israel!” It is the fellowship which the people 

of God have with the Father and with the Son that 
kindles the desires of others to have communion with 
them. I tell you, that if saints would be persuaded to 
spend more time and take more pains about their 
hearts, there would soon be such a divine excellence 
in their conversation that others would account it no 
small privilege to be with or near them. It is the pride, 
passion and earthliness of our hearts, that has spoiled 
Christian fellowship. Why is it that when Christians 
meet they are often jarring and contending, but be- 
cause their passions are unmortified ? Whence come 
their uncharitable censures of their brethren, but from 
their ignorance of themselves? Why are they so rigid 
and unfeeling toward those who have fallen, but 
because they do not fee! their own weakness and lia- 
bility to temptation? Why. is their diseourse so light 
and unprofitablé when they meet, but because their 
hearts are earthly and vain? But now, if Christians 
would study their hearts more and keep them better, 
the beauty and glory of communion would be restored. 
They would divide no more, contend no more, cen- 
sure rashly no more. They will feel right one toward 
another, when each is daily humbled under a sense of 
the evil of his own heart. 

10. Lastly :—IKeep your heart, and then the com- 
forts of the Spirit and the influence of all ordinances 
will be more fixed and lasting than they now are 


ON KEEPING THE HEART. 107 


" And do the consolations of God seem small to you ?” 
Ah, you have reason to be ashamed that the ordinances 
of God, as to their quickening and comforting effects, 
should make so light and transient an impression on 
your heart. 

Now, reader, consider well these special benefits of 
keeping the heart which I have mentioned. Examine 
their importance. Are they small matters? Is ita 
small matter to have your understanding assisted ? 
your endangered soul rendered safe? your sincerity 
proved? your communion with God sweetened ? vour 
heart filled with matter for prayer? Is it a small thing 
to have the power of godliness ? all fatal scandals re- 
moved? an instrumental fitness to serve Christ cb- 

tained 2 the communion of saints restored to its primi- 
tive glory ? and the influence of ordinances abiding in 
the souls of saints 2? If these are no common blessings, 
no ordinary benefits, then surely it is a great and in- 
dispensable duty to keep the heart with all ciligence. 

And now are you inclined to undertake the business 
of keeping your heart? are you resolved upon it? I 
charge you, then, to engage in it earnestly. Away with 
every cowardly feeling, and make up your mind to en- 
counter difficulties. Draw your armar from the word 
of God. Let the word of Curist dwell in you richly, in 
its commands, its promises, its threatenings ; let it be 
fixed in your understanding, your memory, your con- 
science, your affections. You must learn to wield the © 
sword of the Spirit (which is the werd of God) familiar- 
ly, if you would defend your heart and conquer your 
enemies. You must call yourself frequently to an ac- 
count; examine yourself as in the presence of the all- 
seeing God; bring your conscience, as it were, to the 
ber of judgment. Beware how you plunge yourself 


; 
103 ON KEEPING THE HEART: “| 
into a multiplicity of worldly business; how you prac. 
“tise upon the maxims of the world; and how you ven- 
ture at all to indulge your depraved propensities. 
You must exercise the utmost vigilance to discover — 
and check the first symptoms of departure from Ged, 
the least decline of Spirituality, or the least indisposi-_ 
tion to meditation by yourself, and holy conversation — 
and fellowship with others, These things you must — 
undertake, in the strength of Christ, with invincible re-_ 
solution in the outset. And if you thus engage i 
this great work, be assured you shall not spend y 
strength for naught; comforts which you never fe 
or thought of will flow in upon you from every side. 
The diligent prosecution of this work will constantly 
afford you the most powerful excitements to vigilance 
and ardor in the life of faith, while it increases yo 
strength and wears out your enemies. And when you 
have kept your heart with all diligence a little while 
when you have fought the battles of this spiritual war- 
fare, gained the ascendancy over the corruptions with- 
in, and vanquished the enemies without, then God will 
open the gate of heaven to you, and give you the por- 
tion which is promised to them that overcome. Awake 
then, this moment; get the world under your feet, 
pant not for the things which a man may have, and 
eternally lose his soul; but bless God that you may — 
have his service here, and the glory hereafter which _ 
he appoints to his chosen. 7 
_“ Now the God of peace, that brought again from the } 
dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, : 
through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you — 
perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you — 
that which ts well pleasing in his sight, through Jesus _ 
Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever, Amen.” 


etter eel 


DATE DUE 


FeO 4 


922 


FR So RE RT 


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